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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27810388">Of Missing Brothers and Vengeance</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apolloclover/pseuds/Apolloclover'>Apolloclover</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Men of Letters [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abusive John Winchester, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Men of Letters, Angst, Background Castiel/Dean Winchester - Freeform, Established Relationship, Established Saileen, F/M, John Winchester’s A+ parenting, M/M, honestly though, how did the men of letters manage to get themselves killed by a knight of hell, john winchester really ain't shit though, weren't they demon hunters????</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:02:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,719</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27810388</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apolloclover/pseuds/Apolloclover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been four years. Four years since Sam left. Since Sam had been able to see his brother in person. Since he had seen his father. Since he had first taken a breath of freedom, feeling safe for the first time ever. </p>
<p>Sam never thought he would see his father again. And he sure as hell never thought there would be any reason to give him the time of day if he did. But well, life loves to bite him in the ass when it comes to expectations.</p>
<p>  <i>John sighed, “Dean is on a hunting trip.” He sat down at the counter, hunching over himself in exhaustion.</i></p>
<p>  <i>“Dean is always on a hunting trip.” Sam reminded him.</i></p>
<p>  <i>John glared Sam down. “Dean is on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a while.”</i></p>
<p>An alternate universe where the Men of Letters was never killed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Men of Letters [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034814</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>217</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whoeversaidpineapplepizzabadyomomsahoe/gifts">Whoeversaidpineapplepizzabadyomomsahoe</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> ~ August 9th, 2002 ~ </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sam,” the man in front of him whispered urgently. Sam ignored him, turning around to cram another pile of shirts into his overflowing duffle.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sam,” the man hissed again, “Sammy look at me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sam flashed a glare in his direction. “What?” He shouted, irritated. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dean winced and made a shushing motion, eyes flickering nervously to the open doorway. “Do you want to wake him?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Unfortunately, all it did was make Sam angrier. “Asshole is so drunk he probably wouldn’t wake to a gunshot.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do you really want to risk it though?” Dean whispered. He moved over to the door, quietly swinging it shut. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Though he hated to admit it, his brother had a point. Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm the rage simmering in his chest before he started yelling for real. Dean watched him silently as he did so. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You good?” He whispered after a moment.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sam nodded, turning back to his bag. “I know why you’re here Dean, and I’m telling you now it’s not gonna happen.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sam-” Dean tried to speak, but Sam didn’t want to hear what he had to say.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He said I was a disappointment,” Sam hissed. “I told my father I got a full scholarship to an amazing college, and he told me I was a disappointment to him.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sam.” Dean tried again.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He said he’d disown me. Disown me! And for what? For doing something most fathers would be proud of their kid for?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He’s just drunk Sam,” Dean tried to reason with him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sam laughed humorlessly at that. “He’s always ‘just drunk’ Dean.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m sure he didn’t mean-” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sam cut him off again. “If this is how he acts when he doesn’t mean it, think about what he’d do if he did mean it.” He paused his packing to look up at his brother, not bothering to hide the anger in his face. “Can you honestly tell me that there is any state that man could be in that you wouldn’t be too scared shitless to tell him about Lee?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sam felt guilty for the slow blow as panic flickered in Dean’s eyes. His brother's gaze nervously flicked towards the door.  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he whispered, eyes begging Sam to stop talking about it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sam wasn’t really sure why he brought up Lee. They had gotten pretty good at pretending they had no idea who the guy was after all these years. Rather than saying something he would regret, he turned back to shoving more clothes in his bag.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dean huffed out a sigh. “Do you even have a plan?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m gonna go stay with Uncle Bobby.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Dad knows about Uncle Bobby, idiot, that’s the first place he’s gonna look.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, I can figure it out then!” Sam whipped around to shout at his brother. John made a grunting noise from the loud exclamation, They both froze in fear, turning their head towards the room where he was sleeping. They held their breath at the answering silence, not daring to move. Finally, John’s grumbling snore filtered in and they both let out a sigh of relief. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sammy,” Dean said quietly, “I need you to answer something honestly.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What,” Sam grumbled.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Are you sure this is really what you want?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sam glanced up at his brother, surprised to find a familiar look on his face. It was the same look Dean had on when he asked him if he wanted to learn how to shoot, when Sam had asked him for a ride to the SATs, when Dean first forged John’s signature for a science field trip.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He nodded. “Positive.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dean sighed, shoulders slouching. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a set of car keys, holding them out as a peace offering. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Drive to The Roadhouse in Nebraska. They run a hunter's lodging place for people who need to lay low for a while. Just ask for Ellen, and tell her Dean told you to ask about Funkytown.” He tossed the keys to Sam who caught them on reflex. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sam looked down at the keys in surprise, then back up to his brother. “What is this?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Should be a halfway point to Stanford,” Dean continued like Sam hadn’t spoken. “She’ll let you stay as long as ya need, have you work the bar for some extra cash. Best part is dad hates the place and ain’t got a clue that I know about it.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>All Sam could do was look back and forth between the keys in his hand and his brother's tired face. On some level, he understood what was happening, what this was. If Winchesters were the type to get choked up and teary-eyed then Sam definitely would have been. Instead he just </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How can you be sure dad doesn’t know about it?” Sam pressed. Dean didn’t reply, looking down at his shoes and shoving his hands in his pockets. Even without his answer, it wasn’t hard to figure out why Dean might need a place like this. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Map to the roadhouse is in the glove compartment,” Dean said instead of answering the question.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sam packed the rest of his things into the duffle, zipping it shut. He slung it over his shoulder and marched over to his brother, pulling him into a hug. There were so many things he wanted to say. To tell Dean to stay safe, to ask Dean to leave with him. He knew that his brother wouldn’t want to hear it though. Instead, he leaned out of the hug and stared at his brother for a moment, lost for words. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Thank you,” he finally managed to say.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dean’s smile was tight, but Sam could see the sadness behind his eyes. “Just do me a favor, don’t run off and get yourself killed ya hear me?” Sam nodded, fighting back the tears. This really was goodbye. Dean just rolled his eyes at him, “bitch.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Jerk,” Sam fired back. He gave his brother a quick smile before turning to walk out the door, never looking back. </em>
</p><p>~ <em> Now ~ </em></p><p>“Sam, get a move on would ya? We were supposed to be there fifteen minutes ago.” </p><p>Sam looked up at the sound of his girlfriend shouting from the next room, startled out of his memory. He just rolled his eyes and kept working on the warding sigil in the bathroom.</p><p>“Sam!” Eileen shouted, sounding slightly more annoyed, “are you coming or what?” Sam put down the paintbrush and sighed, peeking his head out.</p><p>‘Do I have to?’ He signed. </p><p>‘Yes,’ Eileen signed back at him with a smile, ‘it’ll be fun.’ </p><p>Sam let out a chuckle and made his way over to her, wiping the paint from his hands. Eileen’s brown eyes tracked the movement of his hands. She glanced up at him and raised an eyebrow. ‘Were you working on sigils?’ </p><p>‘I’m protecting my apartment from vengeful demons and spirits. Isn’t that a good excuse to stay in?’ Sam tried on a convincing smile.</p><p>‘Doesn’t count, considering I know it only takes thirty minutes.’ Eileen smirked.</p><p>Sam looked around the small room for another excuse, settling on the stack of envelopes on the table. Well,’ he gestured towards them, ‘then I need to sort through my mail.’</p><p>His girlfriend raised an eyebrow at that, making her way over towards the stack. She picked up a postcard from the mess, snorting at whatever it said. She held it out towards him pointedly. “Sam, this one from Bobby is from February.”</p><p>‘So?’</p><p>‘It’s March.” Eileen rolled her eyes. ‘I think if you’ve gone this long not looking at mail then I think you can go just one more night. Got any more excuses?’</p><p>‘Well,’ Sam signed, moving closer to her. ‘Maybe there is something else I can do to convince you to stay. You came all this way to visit after all.’ He leaned in to kiss her, pulling her body close.</p><p>“Maybe,’ Eileen said out loud, “but you would be all done after five minutes and I would just be sitting here bored.”</p><p>Sam pulled away so she could see his face, narrowing his eyes in insincere annoyance. “Well, now you just ruined any chance you had to convince me to go.”</p><p>“Sure Sam,” Eileen nodded, patting his chest. “Whatever you say.”</p><p>-+-</p><p>The next thing Sam knew, he was at a bar hanging out with his buddy Jake, watching Eileen making her way over with three shot glasses.</p><p>“So here’s to Same and his awesome law school victory,” Eileen grinned as she raised her glass and passed Jake and Sam a glass.</p><p>“It’s nothing,” Sam blushed at the force of her smile.</p><p>Eileen scoffed, “stop acting so humble. You got a 174 on the LSAT, killed an interview, and now you got a full ride to Stanford Law next year.”</p><p>“Man that’s awesome,” Jake clapped him on the back, “How does it feel being the golden boy of your family.”</p><p>Sam shrugged as he felt Eileen stiffen slightly next to him. Family was a touchy topic, for both of them really. His brother hadn’t called him in months, not to mention the situation with his dad.</p><p>“I didn’t tell them yet,” was all he said to Jake. </p><p>Jake scoffed, “if I was you, I would have called them bragging the second I found out.”</p><p>“Well we aren’t exactly the Bradys,” Sam threw a peanut shell at Jake who just laughed good-naturedly.</p><p>“Whatever man. I’m gonna get us some more shots.”</p><p>Sam watched his friend walk away, glancing towards the door. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to duck out?’ He signed to Eileen. ‘I know you wanted to see Jake and all, but I kinda wanted tonight to be for us. To catch up.”</p><p>Eileen looked after Jake and then back to Sam. ‘You just want to get laid.’</p><p>He nodded solemnly at her. “Absolutely.”</p><p>‘Well,” Eileen let out a bark of laughter, ‘who am I to disappoint you then?’ Her smile brightened her whole face and Sam felt the familiar feeling of his heart skipping a beat. </p><p>Sam smiled widely. “I love you,” he reminded her.</p><p>“I know.” Eileen winked. She leaned down to pull him into a kiss.</p><p>They snuck out of the bar a minute later, lying to Jake about Sam being sick. Going by his knowing smirk though, he definitely didn’t believe a word they said. </p><p>On the drive back to his apartment, Eileen didn’t exactly keep her hands to herself. They wandered over his thighs as she kept leaning over to kiss Sam’s cheek, neck, and corner of his lips. It was a miracle that Sam managed to stay focused enough to not drive them off a cliff. </p><p>As soon as they got out of the car Sam pulled her towards him, capturing her lips in a kiss. He felt the kiss tingle down his spine as he pulled her hips closer, feeling her mouth turn up into a smile.</p><p>She pulled away from him so she could see his face. ‘Easy there tiger.’</p><p>‘Like you’re one to talk, Ms. Grabby.’ Sam laughed lightly under his breath at her affronted look, fumbling in his pocket for the house keys. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed the door was slightly ajar.</p><p>‘Hey babe,’ he signed. He tried to keep his expression calm.</p><p>‘What’s up?’ Eileen asked. </p><p>‘Did you leave the door open by any chance?’</p><p>‘No,’ Eileen signed warily, ‘I always double-check the lock.’ </p><p>Silently, the two of them reached into their pockets, Sam pulling out the holy water while Eileen brandished a pocket knife. She jerked her head towards the doorway to gesture for him to go first.</p><p>Nodding, Sam quietly slid the door open and stalked inside. In the dark of the kitchen, he saw the silhouette of a man standing by the window ominously. Sam backed up against the wall of the apartment, holding up his fingers to count down.</p><p><em> Three. Two. One... </em> </p><p>The man turned around and Sam sprung into action, lunging forward and grabbing the man’s shoulder. He startled as the man responded equally fast, knocking Sam's arm away and aiming a strike at his head. Sam deftly ducked the blow as the man made another grab for Sam's arm, swinging him around, and shoving him back. </p><p>Sam heard a shout and both of them looked up as Eileen kicked the man in the face. The man fell back with a surprised shout. </p><p>“The hell,” a familiar voice cursed out, causing Sam to freeze.</p><p>“Dad?” Sam asked under his breath in surprise. The man looked up and the light caught his face.</p><p>Eileen was still in action mode. She swung her foot again, kicking John square in the jaw. As he collapsed on his back, she launched herself forward, kneeling on his chest to hold the dagger to his jugular.</p><p>“Eileen stop,” Sam called out. For obvious reasons, she didn't hear him though. She put her face dangerously close to John’s to whisper her threat at him. </p><p>“You tell me what the hell you’re doing here or I give the floor a nice red paint job.” </p><p>Sam swallowed at the cold fire in her eyes. Eileen threatening his father’s life was way hotter than it should have been. He reached out to tap her shoulder for attention, making sure to step back in case she accidentally swung at him. Thankfully, this time she just looked up at him with a confused expression.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Let him go,” Sam signed as he spoke.</p><p>“Are we not braining the complete stranger on our floor?”</p><p>“No,” Sam sighed and stepped away as the man stood up. “No, that complete stranger is my father.”</p><p>Eileen's eyes flickered between the two of them, as if she wasn’t really processing what Sam was telling her. Finally, she seemed to decide she believed him before standing up off John’s chest. She shot him a look as she made her way over to the lightswitch, expression clearly telling Sam ‘<em> we are talking about this later.’ </em></p><p>“Heya Sammy,” John offered a curt nod once as he sat up. There was a quiet wince as he rubbed his throat.</p><p>The familiar nickname sparked a wave of familiar anger in Sam. Finally overcoming his initial shock, he made his way over to his father to land another punch across his face. John fell back down with a small “oof” of surprise.</p><p>“You don’t get to call me that, John.” Sam hissed. John sat back up, gripping his nose in pain. “I don’t care why you’re here but now you need to get the hell out of my apartment.”</p><p>“Sam-” John started</p><p>“You don’t get to show up after four years calling me ‘Sammy’ like you didn’t disown me.”</p><p>“Sam-” John tried again.</p><p>“Don’t just show up calling me Sammy like I’m your kid. Dean is my family, not you.”</p><p>“Samuel Winchester!” John shouted. Sam snapped his mouth shut, flinching instinctively at the volume.</p><p>John sighed, “Dean is on a hunting trip.” He sat down at the counter, hunching over himself in exhaustion.</p><p>“Dean is always on a hunting trip.” Sam reminded him.</p><p>John glared Sam down. “Dean is on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a while.”</p><p>
  <em> ~ October 29th, 2005 ~ </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re kidding me,” Dean laughed in delight on the other end of the line. “You got a 174 on the LSAT?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah,” Sam looked down at his shoes sheepishly. He had gotten the results just this morning and it still hadn’t quite sunk in. After texting Eileen, the first person he had called was his brother.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What a fuckin nerd,” Dean teased. Sam glared even though his brother couldn’t see it. Why had he called Dean first again? There was some shuffling on the other end of the line and then a loud bang followed by his brother cursing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You good?” Sam asked.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Just dropped the goddamn trunk lid on my fingers. Motherfucker,” Dean started letting out a string of profanities, “son of a bitch it hurts.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Karma,” Sam replied dryly. “Jerk</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Bitch,” Dean scoffed on the other end of the line. “I got this hunt lined up in Jericho and I gotta hit the road before things go to hell. But I’m proud of you, geek.” There was more shuffling on the other end of the line and the creak of a car door opening. “Give Eileen a kiss for me when she gets there,” Dean teased, “and remind her about the better looking brother waitin to scoop her up.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Bye Dean,” Sam rolled his eyes and hung up. A couple moments later he got a text on his phone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em><b>Dean (7:37 pm) - </b> Bitch </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sam laughed and put his phone down, turning to finish his work before Eileen arrived.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ Now ~ </em>
</p><p>Sam sat across the counter from John, sipping from his water. His dad gratefully accepted Eileen’s offered bag of peas and pressed it to his already forming shiner from where Sam had hit him.</p><p>“Last I talked to Dean he was following a lead in Jericho,” Sam said as his father brought the peas to his eyes.. </p><p>John nodded. “Yeah that sounds familiar. He called me when he got there and I haven’t heard from him since. I was wondering if there was anything you heard.”</p><p>Sam pulled out his phone to check his text log. There was one other text besides the ‘bitch’ text. “Last he texted he was worried that burning the bones for his woman in white case hadn’t worked.”</p><p>“Don’t you hate it when that happens?” Eileen joked. Sam snorted as John shot her a glare. </p><p>“Anyways,” John moved on, “any hunt that is good enough to get the jump on your brother is a hunt I need help on. I need your help.”</p><p>“What about the other Men of Letters?” Sam asked.</p><p>“You and I both know Dean cut out his tracking device the second he put it in. If those suits found out they would cut him off entirely, not to mention decide lookin’ for him was a waste.”</p><p>“What about your hunting buddies? Have you really pissed off your friends so much that they won’t help you even find your son?”</p><p>“Dammit Sam,” John growled. “I don’t need this shit from you.”</p><p>“Well, you can’t tell me you don’t deserve it,” Sam bit back.</p><p>If looks could kill, the glare John shot his direction would have burned Sam at the stake. “Fuck this,” John muttered under his breath. He slammed the peas down on the counter. “I just figured you might wanna help find the brother you like so much more than me. “I guess you really meant it when you said you were leaving for good.” </p><p>At that, John stormed out of the apartment. The sound of the door slamming behind him echoed through the apartment in his wake as Eileen and Sam stared mutely after him. Eventually, Eileen swallowed loudly, breaking the silence.</p><p>‘Sam...’ Eileen signed. She gently reached out to touch his arm.</p><p>“I don’t wanna hear it Eileen,” Sam muttered. “Bastard shows up out of nowhere four years after disowning me. He doesn’t get my time of day.” Sam stood up and walked over to the fridge to grab a beer, the buzz from the shots was officially gone and he did not want to be sober for this.</p><p>“Sam,” Eileen sighed, “this isn’t about him. This is about Dean.” </p><p>She stepped in front of him as she spoke, reaching out a hand to hold his cheek. He sagged into her hand, letting the touch ground him. His head was a swirling sea of emotion and confusion, and Eileen standing in front of him felt like a safe harbor. </p><p>“With what you told me about your dad,” Eileen continued, “it is taking every ounce of self control I have to not go out there and shoot him between the eyes.” Sam snorted in amusement. “But you told me Dean practically raised you when you were kids and that he’s always been proud of you. And according to your father, he might be in trouble now.” </p><p>Sam didn’t say anything, choosing instead to pull her into a hug and place a kiss on her forehead. He took a deep breath in, inhaling the familiar smell of mint and gunpowder.</p><p>Eileen let him hold her for a moment before she pulled away and lifted her head to make eye contact before she spoke again. “Can’t you at least stow your crap with your father long enough to return the favor?” </p><p>Sam sighed. She was right, as usual. He leaned down for a chaste kiss.</p><p>‘Promise to shoot me if I ask,’ Sam signed at her.</p><p>‘Nah, it would be too much work to teach another idiot what I like in bed.’ Eileen shrugged nonchalantly while Sam choked in surprise. A wicked grin spread across her face and her eyes sparkled in amusement.</p><p>‘I hate you so much,’ he signed once he recovered.</p><p>‘No,’ Eileen shook her head. ‘No, you love me.’</p><p>“God help me I do,” Sam said in horror. He leaned down to pull her into another kiss before she could start to tease him again.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Previously...</p><p> </p><p>  <i>"...you told me Dean practically raised you when you were kids and that he’s always been proud of you. And according to your father, he might be in trouble now.” </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Sam didn’t say anything, choosing instead to pull her into a hug and place a kiss on her forehead. He took a deep breath in, inhaling the familiar smell of mint and gunpowder.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Eileen let him hold her for a moment before she pulled away and lifted her head to make eye contact before she spoke again. “Can’t you at least stow your crap with your father long enough to return the favor?” </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Sam sighed. She was right, as usual.</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Have you seen this man,” Sam asked what seemed like the hundredth stranger on the street. The man shook his head apologetically, another person who hadn’t seen his brother. “Thanks anyways,” he sighed.</p><p>After four hours of asking random strangers around Jericho if they had seen Dean, Sam was starting to wonder if his brother had actually been there at all.</p><p>“Any luck?” John asked. Sam looked up to see him walking over. If the look on John’s face was anything to go by, he was just as unsuccessful. </p><p>“None here,” Sam sighed, “are we sure this is the town the hunt was in?”</p><p>“Yeah, articles clearly indicate a woman in white on the highway.”</p><p>“Maybe Dean just dealt without talking to locals?” Sam reasoned. </p><p>John snorted, “and miss the chance to explore the wildlife?” He had a point. </p><p>“Well, let’s check the bars I guess,” Sam sighed. If the bartender didn’t know Dean, then chances were nobody knew him. </p><p>At that moment, Sam noticed an officer walking up to them from his squad car down the street. He nudged his dad, motioning towards the man. </p><p>The officer caught up to them. “Heard you guys are looking for our fugitive?” </p><p>“Fugitive?” Sam asked in confusion. </p><p>“Yeah, some folks are sayin’ you got a picture of the cowboy?” The sheriff looked at them expectantly. Sam looked over at John in confusion as he pulled out the picture again to which the police nodded in confirmation. “Yep, that’s the son of a bitch.” </p><p>“What is he guilty for?” Sam asked. </p><p>“Grave desecration and smashing his car into the  Welch house.” </p><p>Sam resisted the urge to groan in exasperation. <em> Dean, you are so goddamn exhausting.  </em></p><p>Back in the 1900’s, the Men of Letters had made a deal with homeland security so this kind of thing wouldn’t happen. The deal was that cops would give them amnesty for any damages or ‘crimes’ committed during hunts, and in return the government wouldn’t have to admit that demons and shit were real. When they were kids Dean had always griped about the paperwork, but Sam had thought his idiot brother had at least learned to finish it. </p><p>He wasn’t sure how crashing a car into the Welch house was part of the case though. </p><p>Sam looked to John who seemed equally annoyed. “I’ll make some calls, clear up the whole mess.” John flashed his charming businessman smile as he stepped away, pulling out his phone.</p><p>“The hell is that supposed to mean?” The officer asked in confusion. </p><p>Sam ignored his question, “we need to see the Welch house. Can you point us in the right direction?”</p><p>The officer shrugged, clearly not caring enough to pick a fight. “Sure.” He rattled off some directions which Sam gratefully took down with a smile.</p><p>“Thank you officer…” Sam held his hand out as he looked for his badge. </p><p>“Gaylord,” the officer shook Sam's hand. Sam coughed to cover his laugh before shaking the man's hand. </p><p>John made his way back over. “I made a phone call. You take me down to the station and I can get all damages paid for and you will have one less fugitive on your hand to deal with.”</p><p>“Thank god,” Officer Gaylord laughed good naturedly, “I prefer this job when I’m just catching drunk drivers and stupid kids.”</p><p>“I’m sure you do,” John said wryly. He turned to Sam. “You head to the Welch house. I'll get Dean’s paperwork done.” </p><p>Sam nodded. This was gonna be fun.</p><p>-+-</p><p>Ten minutes later, he was pulling up the road to the Welch house. There was a gaping hole where Sam assumed the car had crashed, haphazardly covered with police tape. Sam turned the engine off before making his way to the door. </p><p>The house was in misrepair, and just looking at it Sam could tell it had been that way long before the car ever crashed into it. The windows were boarded up and the siding that probably used to be yellow was now stained brown and green. </p><p>He pulled out his EMF reader as he made his way up the steps to the door, the stairs creaked under foot from the pressure. The EMF was low, the kind that one found at an old haunting, so the ghost was probably gone. Sam was just wondering how a car managed to factor into it. </p><p>Looking around the room, Sam made note of the family photos on the wall showing two kids smiling up at a woman. Sam vaguely remembered the article mentioning how the kids had died in this house rather than the river Constance had drowned herself in. </p><p>“Son of a bitch,” Sam laughed under his breath. So that was how Dean had pulled it off. </p><p>He pulled out his phone as he canvassed the room looking for anything else off. It was pretty difficult since Sam couldn’t tell what was from Dean crashing a car into the place and what was from him fighting the ghost. </p><p>His phone rang twice before his dad picked up. “Hello?”</p><p>“Yeah, seems like Dean brought the woman in white back home to the ghosts of her kids when burnin the bones didn’t work. Crashing the car was probably his dramatic entrance.” </p><p>“Damn,” John whistled, “how does this kid think of these things?”</p><p>“He’s not a kid anymore John,” Sam reminded him. His father was silent on the other line. “I’m gonna try calling his cell. Maybe he left it here on accident.”</p><p>“Right, you do that. I got Dean's motel room and the shit they found in there. When you’re done there I need you to come and go through it. This paperwork is a bitch.”</p><p>“Yeah, okay,” Sam hung up his phone and pulled it away from his ear. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Dean's number. </p><p>Sure enough, Sam could hear Dean’s ringer echo through the room he was in. It seemed to be coming from the desk which was overturned. Sam left the phone ringing as he made his way over. </p><p>“I swear to god if you’ve been worrying us because you lost your phone I’m gonna kill you Dean,” Sam grumbled. He pulled the desk away from the wall and froze at the sight. </p><p>Dried blood all over the wall. </p><p>Based on the greying of the stain, it had been there a while. Sam looked at the desk to see where a chunk of it had snapped half off and was facing forward. It was also covered in old dried blood. Based on the size of the stain, the chances of his brother being alive were slim. </p><p>
  <em> How the hell did he get out then? </em>
</p><p>Cursing, Sam went back out to the car to grab his Polaroid. He snapped a picture of the stain, holding the Polaroid out to dry. His dad was not going to be happy about this. </p><p>-+-</p><p>His dad was <em> definitely </em>not happy about it. </p><p>“Dammit Dean, this is why I said you were too young for your solo hunting permit.” </p><p>Sam remembered the day that Dean had called him two years ago, unbelievably excited about his promotion. He had gone on and on about how he was finally done hunting with Dad and how he was gonna be able to call Sam more often because of it. Dean had even gotten the chance to meet Eileen on a hunt. </p><p>“John,” Sam said, “Dean was 26, not a kid. And he was personally recommended for the promotion by Bobby.”</p><p>John turned to face him, “how did you know that?”</p><p>Sam shrugged. “Dean calls to catch up sometimes.”</p><p>John frowned, “I didn’t know that. I thought he just texted for hunting help.”</p><p>“Would it have mattered if you did?” Sam glared him down in challenge.</p><p>A week after Sam had left for Stanford, Dean had called him and said John had gone on a bit of a rage. His brother had sounded exhausted, and his voice held a familiar note of pain which Dean told him was from a hunt. Sam always suspected something else had happened though. </p><p>John’s mouth snapped shut at that and he turned away to finish  the paperwork he had been working on. “Gaylord has his stuff,” John gestured towards nothing in particular, “go find him.”</p><p>Sam slammed Dean’s phone on the desk between them and stormed out of the room. He knew he was acting like a petulant child, but it felt good to throw anything shitty John had done back in his face. </p><p>He met Officer Gaylord at the front desk. </p><p>“Heya,” the old man smiled at Sam, “Sam right? Your dad told us your name.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Sam smiled awkwardly back at the man. “John said you got the stuff from Deans motel room?”</p><p>“Yeah of course,” Officer Gaylord walked towards a lockbox on the counter behind him, pulling out a large bag. “Here ya go, just need you to sign off that you’re the one who took it.”</p><p>Sam signed the man's forms and grabbed the bag. He left the station with a smile and went out to the car in the lot. He didn’t feel like sitting with John while working on this. Sitting with him in silence over the course of a long car ride was torture enough.</p><p>Once in the car, he popped open the bag and began to pull things out. There was a stack of articles, a receipt from some local bar, and a couple pairs of socks. Going by the smell, the socks were unwashed. Sam gagged at the smell and tossed them out the window into a nearby receptacle.</p><p>The articles were for the woman in white case and a couple other possible cases in the surrounding area. Going through them, Sam noticed repeat articles based around a place called Blackwater. </p><p>Eileen texted while he was sorting through them. He smiled down at her contact picture of his screen before flipping the phone open to read it.</p><p><b>&lt;&lt;&lt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:33 pm</b> ) - <em> Hey Sasquatch </em></p><p>Sam rolled his eyes as he punched out his reply. </p><p><b>&gt;&gt;&gt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:34 pm) </b> - <em> Hey babe </em></p><p><b>&lt;&lt;&lt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:35 pm) </b> <em> - Hey big stront Hunter Sam. You start wearing exclusively flannels and getting injured for no reason yet? </em></p><p><b>&lt;&lt;&lt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:36 pm) </b> - <em> Strong* </em></p><p>Sam looked down at his shirt to check. </p><p><b>&gt;&gt;&gt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:37 pm)</b> - <em> Look, the fact that I’m wearing a flannel when you texted is a coincidence </em>.</p><p><b>&lt;&lt;&lt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:38 pm) </b> - <em> Sure, you keep telling yourself that ;) </em> </p><p>Sam just rolled his eyes at her teasing and pulled out his portable to look up more news sources around Blackwater. Another text came through.</p><p><b>&lt;&lt;&lt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:40 pm) - </b> <em> How’s the hunt for Dean going? </em></p><p><b>&gt;&gt;&gt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:35 pm) - </b> <em> Not great honestly </em> </p><p>Sam sighed as he tapped out his answer. He pulled out a piece of scrap paper for notes while he scrolled through articles, writing down incidents and their corresponding dates.</p><p><b>&lt;&lt;&lt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:41 pm) - </b> <em> What’s wrong? </em></p><p>Sam could see her concerned expression as if she was right in front of him.</p><p><b>&gt;&gt;&gt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:42 pm)</b> - Hes not here. And <em> his last hunt left a mess and now John and I gotta do paperwork so the town stops declaring him a fugitive of the state. </em> </p><p><b>&lt;&lt;&lt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:43 pm) - </b> <em> What did he do? </em></p><p><b>&gt;&gt;&gt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:44 pm) - </b> <em> In summary? Grave desecration and crashing a car into a person’s house. </em></p><p><b>&lt;&lt;&lt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:45 pm) - </b> <em> What??? </em></p><p><b>&lt;&lt;&lt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:45 pm) - </b> <em> The??? </em></p><p><b>&lt;&lt;&lt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:45 pm) - </b> <em> Fuck????????? </em></p><p><b>&lt;&lt;&lt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:46 pm) - </b> <em> A CAR?????????????? </em></p><p>Sam let out a huff of laughter.</p><p><b>&gt;&gt;&gt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:47 pm) - </b> <em> To be fair, he did kill the ghost </em></p><p><b>&lt;&lt;&lt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:48 pm) - </b> <em> Well he is definitely tellin me that story when u find him. You can get him cleared of those charges through right?  </em></p><p><b>&gt;&gt;&gt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:49 pm) - </b> <em> Yeah. It’s nowhere near as bad as when they had to cover demons kidnapping the Linberg baby </em></p><p><b>&lt;&lt;&lt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:50 pm) - </b> <em> TBH I still can’t believe that was our guys.  </em></p><p><b>&lt;&lt;&lt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:51 pm) - </b> <em> I’m sorry but I gotta go. The boss wants me in for a vamp nest. Love you.  </em></p><p><b>&gt;&gt;&gt; Eileen &lt;3 (2:55 pm) - </b> <em> I love you too. </em></p><p>Smiling, he tucked his phone in his pocket and pulled up the Men of Letters database, scrolling to the creatures reference section. A quick comparison of incident history and the Men of Letters database suggested something like a hidebehind or a chupacabra had been lurking in the woods. He closed the file and wiped his keystroke history before pulling up another search window.</p><p>He found the phone number for the Ranger Station for Blackwater Ridge. He dialed the number as he packed up all of Dean’s stuff, shoving his own computer into a case.</p><p>The phone rang as he went back to John who was finished up the paperwork. John raised an eyebrow in question but Sam just held up a finger for him to wait a moment, the other side of the line picked up.</p><p>“Lost Creek Trail Ranger Station, Ranger Wilkinson speaking.”</p><p>“Hi this is Deputy Marshal Greene calling out of the FBI’s San Francisco field office, recent evidence has led us to believe your office may have come in contact with an individual we are looking for,” Sam lied smoothly.</p><p>The guy on the other end of the line was quiet, “I’m sorry?”</p><p>“Have you seen any unfamiliar individuals pass through your area in the past couple of months?”</p><p>“That would have been prime tourist season son, there were a lot of people comin through here from out of town.” </p><p>Sam pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, “if I gave you a description?”</p><p>“Maybe,” the man sounded doubtful though. Sam rattled off a description of Dean. There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line as Ranger Wilkinson thought it over. Finally he spoke, “yeah actually, I think I did. Couple days after Halloween a man that looked like that came through, was helpin a family friend look for her brother.”</p><p>Sam breathed a sigh of relief. The Officer Gaylord had said they found the wreckage in October, which meant his brother had survived. </p><p>“Can I get the name of the family member?”</p><p>-+-</p><p>An hour later they were on the road again. For the fourteen hour drive, they had exactly one conversation that lasted about ten minutes. Sam was telling John the details of the hunt, the signs and frequency of the casualties. His thoughts on what they pointed to.</p><p>John hummed in disagreement, “If it was a chupacabra there would be more of the body left behind. They usually kill and eat then and there, reports say bodies were either intact or completely gone.</p><p>“Well what about the hidebehind?”</p><p>“Could be, but hidebehinds need to eat every month. This beast is killing every 23 years.”</p><p>Sam grudgingly admitted his father was probably right. “Fine, what do you think it is.”</p><p>“Well,” John mused, “based on frequency and the kill pattern I kind of wanna say a Wendigo.”</p><p>Sam raised an eyebrow, “seriously? No way”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Because,” Sam sputtered indignantly, ““Wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or, or northern Michigan. I've never even heard of one this far west.”</p><p>“Think about it Sam. The location, how infrequent the kills are, how long it’s been going on. Wendigos are just cannibals that got a little too hungry. Who’s to say some hikers didn’t get caught out there in the winter and one of them decided to try munching on their friends?”  Sam hated how reasonable his father sounded. </p><p>“Fine,” Sam acquiesced, “say you’re right.”</p><p>“I usually am,” John said smugly.</p><p>Sam glared him down, “say you’re right. What’s the plan?”</p><p>John shrugged. “You talk to the girl, I make sure Dean finished his job.”</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>That was the end of the conversation.</p><p>John ended up dropping Sam at the girl’s house before leaving for the hunt. Sam breathed easier being away from John. Being locked in a car with him with no easy way to get away had made him nervous in a way that he hadn’t felt in years. </p><p>Shaking the bad feeling off, he made his way up to the door and knocked. </p><p>The wooden door cracked open to a short brunette male with brown eyes. There was a healing scar on his cheek and a guarded look in his eye.</p><p>“Can I help you,” he asked suspiciously.</p><p>“I’m looking for Haley Collins?” Sam subtly tried to look behind the man.</p><p>“That’s my sister,” the man said, “what do you want with her.”</p><p>“Right,” Sam replied. He reached into his jacket pocket to fish around for his fake badge. He flashed it to the man in front of him. “Deputy Marshal Greene, I recently spoke to a Ranger Wilkinson?”</p><p>The man leaned in to inspect the badge before answering. “If this is about the missing person’s report, you’re a little late buddy.”</p><p>“How so?” He hadn’t seen any missing persons report on Haley, so he could only assume that the person Dean had helped her look for was dead. The man didn’t answer so Sam pressed him with another question. “Did you find Tom Collins’s body?”</p><p>“Nah,” the guy laughed, “I–”</p><p>“Tommy?” A girl behind the man asked, “who’s at the door.”</p><p>The man let the door crack a little as he turned around to face the girl who had spoken, “some Marshal who’s lookin for me.”  So this was Tom Collins. </p><p><em> Looking incredibly healthy for somebody supposed to be Wendigo chow </em>, Sam thought to himself. </p><p>“Actually,” Sam interjected, “I’m looking for somebody that your sister Haley may have come in contact with.”</p><p>“Open the door Tommy,” the girl said, “it’s okay. He’s just a U.S. Marshal, not a serial killer.” Tom rolled his eyes and opened the door, gesturing for Sam to enter. </p><p>“Thank you,” Sam said politely. He looked at the girl as he stepped in, noting the resemblance to Tom. “Haley Collins?”</p><p>“That’s me,” she said with a polite smile. “How can I help you Marshal?”</p><p>Sam reached into his pocket for his picture of Dean. “Ranger Wilkinson said you may have come across a person of interest.” He held the photograph towards her, “recognize him?”</p><p>Haley’s eyes flashed with recognition and surprise before her face settled into an impassive mask. “No, can’t say I have. What did he do?” Her concern was poorly concealed. </p><p>“He’s missing,” he replied, “he’s a witness in a serious case and we think he may have been on the run in this area.”</p><p>The girl’s defenses dropped immediately, “he’s in trouble?” </p><p>“He will be when I give him hell for dropping his security,” Sam joked. The girl didn’t seem to think it was very funny. He settled his expression into something more serious. “Why did you lie earlier, you do know that’s a felony right?”</p><p>The girl frowned, “that man saved my brother’s life. The very least I can do is go to jail for obstruction of justice for him.”So Dean <em> had </em> finished the hunt, he tried to not feel smug about his father needing to traipse through the woods for no reason. </p><p>“Is his partner in danger too?” </p><p><em> Partner? </em>Sam was thrown by that. Dean was notorious for being a lone wolf when it came to hunting. There was a reason he had gotten his solo hunting license the second he was eligible. As far as Sam knew, the only person Dean was willing to partner with was Jo, and that was just because he had an older brother complex with her. </p><p>He knew that his silence was starting to make the other two uneasy, so he carefully made his face blank before speaking. “Tell me about his partner. Did you two talk to him?” </p><p>Tom’s cheeks tinted pink, much to Sam’s surprise. “Er, well. He uh...” </p><p>“Honestly I don’t know much about him,” Haley cut in. “He just showed up in the woods when the Wen– when the bear,” the girl hastily corrected herself, “was about to eat us and killed it. He helped Dean and us down the mountain and then left with Dean.”</p><p>Sam pretended not to notice her slip up. “What did he look like?”</p><p>“Little bit shorter than Dean, dark hair, blue eyes.”</p><p>“Dreamy,” Tom blurted out. His mouth snapped shut and he flared an even brighter shade of red.</p><p>Sam just raised an eyebrow. That didn’t sound like any hunter he knew, but then again he hadn’t been an active member of the Men of Letters in years. He nodded slowly and scribbled it down.</p><p>“Did you catch a name?”</p><p>“Something weird,” the girl shrugged, “Ash?”</p><p>Sam nodded. Ash was a computer expert for the Men of Letters branch in Nebraska, but last he checked the guy wasn’t exactly the blue eyed ‘dreamy’ sort. He made a note to call him later regardless. “Did Dean say where he was headed?”</p><p>“Something about Oklahoma.” The girl sighed, “sorry I can’t help much.”</p><p>“You helped plenty,” Sam assured her. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “If you remember anything else please don’t hesitate to call.” He smiled at them and turned to leave.</p><p>“Hey Agent Greene?” Tom spoke up. Sam turned to find the man staring at him, rubbing his wrists nervously. “Can you do me a favor?”</p><p>“Sure?” </p><p>“When you find Dean, can you tell him I said thank you?”</p><p>Sam smiled, “of course.” He turned around to walk out, pulling out his phone to call Ash.</p><p>-+-</p><p>A quick call with Ash proved he hadn’t been the hunter with Dean, apparently he hadn’t even known Dean was in Colorado. Ash said he hadn’t heard from his idiot brother since the Jericho hunt either. After meeting with John again Sam looked into what the hunt Dean could have been on in Oklahoma and laughed at the disgusted look on his father’s face.</p><p>“Bugs? <em> Really? </em>”</p><p>That hunt had led to a dead end with Dean. Sam was just about ready to get the Men of Letters involved when, thankfully, one of John’s buddies called him back.</p><p>“Jerry, whatcha got for me?” John said into the microphone. Sam couldn’t hear anything the guy was saying so he stared off out the window, picking at a piece of dead skin in boredom. </p><p>“An <em> airplane? </em>” John said in surprise. Sam looked up in confusion. “Why was there a hunt on an airplane?”</p><p>“Dean did a hunt on an airplane?” Sam said, bewildered. “There is no way he would willingly do a hunt on a plane.”</p><p>“Why?” John asked in confusion.</p><p>“You’re kidding me right?” Sam scoffed. John just looked at him expectantly. “Of course you aren’t,” Sam muttered under his breath. “Dean is terrified of flying.”</p><p>“Fear of flying is a weakness,” John replied stoically, “I raised my kid to know better.”</p><p>Sam felt a flare of anger at that. “You didn’t raise your kid at all,” he hissed venomously. </p><p>John’s face turned red with anger. Sam couldn’t stop his reflexive flinch when his dad raised his hand to point at his face. “Watch your tone boy.”</p><p>Sam glared in response but kept his mouth shut. John put the phone on the dashboard and tapped a button.</p><p>“Jerry, you’re on speaker. My son is with me.”</p><p>“Heya Sam,” a man’s voice crackled out of the phone. He sounded exhausted. </p><p>“You said you saw my brother?” Sam asked.</p><p>“Yeah, back in December I asked him to look into a suspicious crash.” The man rattled off the details of the case, how he had thought it was weird that such an experienced pilot would just drop like that, and how a perfectly functional plane had just stopped working. “Dean said he found sulfur round the crash. Don’t know what it meant but he seemed pretty concerned.”</p><p>Sam felt a pit in his stomach at that. Sulfur usually meant one thing, demons. “Did he figure out what was wrong?”</p><p>“Yeah, he had me help him get on a certain flight to catch the thing.”</p><p>“Did he seem nervous?” Sam asked. Dean would do literally anything to avoid going on a flight if he had to. If he had been unafraid to do so then that might have been a clue to why his brother just dropped off the map. This honestly sounded like some type of possession of shifter.</p><p>“Yeah, dude seemed terrified.” Well there goes that theory. “Only reason he didn’t back out last minute is because of that partner of his.” </p><p>Sam paused. “This partner, any chance his name was Ash?”</p><p>“Nah,” Jerry said, “something like that though. Started with a C.”</p><p>“Describe him,” John ordered.</p><p>“Hmmm,” Jerry said as he thought, “some guy in a trench coat. Uh, I wanna say he looked a little shorter than Dean. Black hair, blue eyes, seemed like he had never spoken to another human being in his life. Kept staring at me all weird.” </p><p>It seemed like Dean had still been with this mysterious stranger. Apparently, the guy had even convinced Dean to get on a plane. He didn’t have a good feeling about the stranger. He had more description now than Haley had given him, but this mystery stranger didn’t sound like anybody Sam knew. He turned to John who seemed equally at a loss.</p><p>“Did he say where he was going when he was done?” Sam asked.</p><p>“Not really,” Jerry sounded apologetic. “I tried to buy them drinks as a thank you. Not even one beer in he got a call that made him freak out. Started saying something about trouble back home?” Sam and John looked up to exchange knowing looks as Jerry continued. “His partner followed him out and that was the last I saw of either of them.” The man sighed, “sorry I can’t help out much.”</p><p>Sam and John were quiet for a bit as what the man said sunk in, they were looking at each other with matching looks of dread.</p><p>“You helped a lot, thanks Jerry,” John finally said. He hung up the phone.</p><p>“He said home,” Sam whispered.</p><p>“Yeah,” John replied. He turned the car on and began to drive away, “ain’t no place like home.”</p><p>-+-</p><p>Sam didn’t remember Lawrence, let alone living there. John definitely did though, his eyes growing more and more haunted the longer they were there. He caught John instinctively slowing the car down as he drove by certain places. A mechanic shop, a bench on a sidewalk, a rundown diner. When they pulled up in front of their old house John’s face was locked in a stony impassiveness.</p><p>The house was in surprisingly good condition, considering there had been a house fire. There was no sign of fire damage on the outside, the windows looked new, and there was a car in the driveway. Somebody lived there now.</p><p>Probably the elderly black woman glaring them down from the front lawn</p><p>Once she saw him staring she gestured impatiently for him to get out of the car. Feeling like he had just been chastised, Sam opened the door, ears burning. </p><p>“Hello ma’am,” he tried a respectful tone. He wracked his brain for a good excuse for snooping around her front lawn.</p><p>“Don’t ‘hello ma’am’ me Sam Winchester,” the woman said disapprovingly, “I’ve been waiting for you in this cold for an hour.” </p><p>Sam’s head shot up in surprise at that, instinctively he reached for his sidearm. Based on stories, if a stranger knew a hunters name they were either a demon, some other creepy crawly, or–</p><p>“Get your hand off that gun boy,” the woman tutted disapprovingly. “I’m a psychic not a demon. Not only that, I used to babysit you while your mama and daddy were off at all those Men of Letters meetings.”</p><p>At that John finally got out of the car, the stony expression still on his face. “Hello Missouri.”</p><p>If looks could kill then John would be dead. The woman, Missouri, didn’t reply to John’s greeting, instead choosing to face Sam with a gentler gaze. “Why don’t you come inside honey, I’ll get you some sweet tea and tell you all about your brother’s visit.” </p><p>Now that she was done chastising him she seemed practically motherly. Sam didn’t bother asking how she knew he was looking for Dean, instead choosing to nod and motion for her to lead the way. </p><p>She led them on a walk to her home the next street over. The window displayed one of those kitschy signs that all of the fake psychics had outside their shop for palm readings and the like. He raised an eyebrow at it and Missouri laughed.</p><p>“A girl had to pay her bills somehow Samuel.” She opened the door and led them inside. “Make yourself at home,” she said kindly before leaving for the kitchen.</p><p>John settled into one of the armchairs like he had been there thousands of times, kicking off his shoes before resting them on the table. Sam sat on the sofa, taking in the homey decorations, the cream colored walls, the cheesy beads in the doorways.</p><p>Missouri walked back into the room with three glasses and a pitcher of tea. He gratefully accepted the glass she handed him with a polite smile, “Thank you ma’am.” She just smiled back before turning to John, expression turning sour before slamming the pitcher on the table for him to serve himself. Sam had no idea what his father had done to piss this woman off but it definitely amused him.</p><p>“All right then,” she said in her warm southern drawl, “you want to know what Dean was doin here.” Rather than interrupting her Sam just nodded quietly. “Well I had a vision of the very nice young woman who moved into the house last week being burned alive by a poltergeist.”</p><p>“Poltergeist?” Sam exclaimed. His mom had died in that house, surrounded by fire. Was it possible that she–</p><p>“Not your mother dear,” Missouri assured him, “and don’t worry, the poltergeist wasn’t what killed your mother either.” At that she flashed a look to John, almost imperceptible.</p><p>“Then who was it?”</p><p>Missouri waved her hand dismissively, “nobody important. I called Dean down to help me deal with it. I knew he would be upset if some other hunters started traipsing around his home without care. We did a purification ritual on the house and got rid of the ghost.” </p><p>There was something that Missouri wasn’t saying, Dean would not have panicked about just a random poltergeist the way Jerry said he had. Sam opened up his mouth to ask her, but the look she threw his way made it clear that she knew what he was asking, and needed him to drop it. </p><p>“Do you know where Dean is?” Sam asked.</p><p>Her face turned sympathetic, “I’m sorry honey, no.”</p><p>“But you’re psychic,” Sam protested, “you can find him.”</p><p>“Sam,” she said gently, “Dean had a message for you.” Sam shut his mouth, gesturing for her to continue. She sighed, “he wants you to stop looking for him.”</p><p>Sam froze in surprise. John was the one who spoke up, “Dean knows we’re looking for him? Why the hell hasn’t he called us then.”</p><p>“John Winchester I <em> know </em>you didn’t use that tone with me,” Missouri snapped at him. John snapped his mouth shut at her icy tone. “And he didn’t know when he told me that. That was the message he told me to give you if you ever came looking for him, if you ever found your way to me.”</p><p>“How long has it been since you heard from him?” Sam asked desperately.</p><p>“When he came here in December.” Missouri frowned, “he disappeared from my visions on New Years day.”</p><p>“That was January,” Sam’s eyes widened, “that was almost three months ago.”</p><p>“I know,” Missouri sighed, “that’s why I’m worried too. That’s why I’ll tell you this, before he went dark I was having difficulty seeing him because of this big bright light blocking the way. Last thing I did manage to catch was that he was going to see a hunter about something.”</p><p>“Yes?” Sam pushed.</p><p>“A man called Daniel Elkins.”</p><p>They only stayed a minute more before leaving to hit the road. As John left to start the car, Missouri touched Sam’s arm, pulling him to the side.</p><p>“Sam,” her voice was colored with concern.</p><p>“Yeah?” He asked, cocking his head in confusion. Missouri looked after John and then back at Sam, mouth parting to say something. </p><p>“Sam I…”</p><p>“Sam!” John shouted for him from outside. Missouri and Sam looked over to see John staring them down from outside the window. Missouri dropped her hand.</p><p>“Sam, just…” Missouri trailed off. Her eyes were tight with fear. “Sam be careful, there’s something <em> wrong </em>. I’m not sure what it is, but I can feel it.” With those very reassuring words, her hand dropped from his shoulder and she shooed him out of her house.</p><p>-+-</p><p>Daniel Elkins, according to John, was a retired hunter whose specialty was vamps. Now, he was a recluse alcoholic in a rundown cabin who was called in by the Men of Letters as a consultant for others on vampire hunts. </p><p>As they pulled up to the cabin it became obvious that John’s intel was out of date.</p><p>Two people were sitting outside the cabin, a red haired girl who was cleaning her shotgun and an older man was sharpening a machete. Somebody had said something which had the man laughing heartily and the girl smirking in self satisfaction. The old man looked up when the car pulled into the driveway, eyes darkening when he saw John in the driver's seat.</p><p>“You got some nerve comin round here Winchester,” the old man growled as they got out of the car. Sam sighed, just another hunter John had managed to piss off.</p><p>“Trust me,” John scoffed, “I wouldn’t be here if I had another choice.” The other man seemed unimpressed. John sighed in annoyance saying the next words like they were acid on his tongue, “I just need your help Elkins.”</p><p>“Sucks,” the man said, “cause I distinctly remember needing your help with a nest a couple years back. You remember what happened that time?”</p><p>“Come on, that’s practically ancient history,” John argued.</p><p>“Not when I got a bum leg and nearly died you bastard!” </p><p>John and Daniel started arguing loudly about something that happened ten years ago. Not being one to deprive John of getting his ass handed to him, Sam quietly made his way over to the girl watching them in concern. The first punch was thrown as he sat next to the girl, making her jump. </p><p>“Should we stop this?” The girl whispered in concern.</p><p>“Nah,” Sam said cheerfully, “this is just how John says hello.”</p><p>“John?” The red head was excited now. “As in John Winchester?</p><p>“The bastard in the flesh,” Sam laughed, “I’m his son, Sam.” He held out his hand to shake.</p><p>“Charlie,” she shook his hand. “I’m not Elkin’s daughter but he’s my mentor for fieldwork now.”</p><p>“Fieldwork? I thought Eliot was retired from that stuff.”</p><p>“I’m a new technical analyst for the company he works for. They wanted me to get more practice working on site.” Sam took in the girl in front of him. She couldn’t have been more than 20 years old, pretty standard age for the traumatized children Men of Letters had a habit of scooping off the street</p><p>“How did you get on the Men of Letters radar?” He asked. Her eyes widened comically in surprise, making him laugh. “Relax, I used to be a probie before I left for school. John Winchester is my dad?”</p><p>Charlie relaxed. “I got caught trying to hack into their servers. And by ‘trying’ I actually mean succeeding. They decided they wanted me on board and offered to even <em> pay </em> me for it. Who could say no to being given permission to hack the government daily?”</p><p>“Uh, me?” Charlie laughed at that, looking back down at her. Sam looked back up at John who was now sporting a split lip and a nasty shiner already forming around his eye. Elkins looked just as beat up but still ready to fight. “What’s the deal with them?”</p><p>“Not sure,” she confessed, “the only thing I know about your dad is that he’s Henry’s kid and one of the senior hunters.” Charlie grinned at him, “Henry is the one who recruited me.”</p><p>“No kidding?” Sam hadn’t heard from his grandfather other than through Dean since he had left. “You still haven't told me how you got Daniel Elkins to come out of retirement to teach you.</p><p>“What can I say, old men like me,” Charlie shrugged. Sam choked on his breath in surprise. Charlie laughed at whatever expression was on his face and pounded his back. “Relax man, he showed up at the roadhouse back in December and had to put up with me nursing him back to health. I grew on him like mold.”</p><p>The other two men seemed to have gotten their anger out of their system over the course of their conversation. Daniel spit some blood out of his mouth and made his way over to where the two of them sat, making a double take once his eyes locked on Sam.</p><p>“Who the hell are you?” He asked.</p><p>“Sam Winchester,” he replied easily, “nice to meet you Mr. Elkins.”</p><p>The man rolled his eyes, “hmph. Bradbury, throw me a towel.” Charlie reached over and grabbed something behind Sam’s back, tossing it to Daniel. </p><p>“You gotta stop getting into fights like this old man,” Charlie teased.</p><p>“Who you callin old?” The man gripped back, there was no malice in his tone though. He mopped up blood on his face and looked back at Sam, “you related to John?” </p><p>“Yeah, his kid.”</p><p>Daniel paused, “you Dean’s brother?”</p><p>“Yes sir. That’s actually why we are here.”</p><p>Elkins laughed, grinning widely. “You tell your brother I still owe him and that partner of his a drink. What’s he up to?”</p><p>“He’s missing, sir.” There goes another person talking about Dean’s partner.</p><p>The smile on Elkin’s face froze at that, “he’s what?”</p><p>“Missing.”</p><p>There was silence for a minute, only interrupted by John’s footsteps on the gravel as he made his way over. Daniel studied Sam’s face, as if deciding if Sam was full of it or not. Finally, the older man sighed, lowering the bloody towel from his face. “What can I do to help.”</p><p>Sam sighed in relief, “just tell us the last time you saw him. What happened, what he said. Anything you remember really.”</p><p>Elkins sat onto the bench across from him, face tired. “I saw him round Christmas. A couple vamps cornered me in a bar, dragged me back to their nest.” The man winced as if the memories were physically painful to him. “I, uh… I was sure I was a dead man. They tortured me for days, draining me. They wanted something from me.”</p><p>“What did they want?” Sam asked. He felt bad for Elkins, but if Dean had a chance to save this guy’s life though, at least he was still okay back in December</p><p>“I’m not supposed to tell you, but it’s gone anyways, so...” Elkins shrugged. “They wanted the colt.” Sam’s eyes widened in surprise. John’s head snapped up in his peripheral vision and he went very still. </p><p>The colt was the most powerful gun, the most powerful <em> weapon </em> known to the Men of Letters. Supposedly there was nothing it couldn’t kill or destroy. The colt was known to have even killed the knight of hell Abbadon back in the 50s. It was pretty much the first thing anybody who worked for the Men of Letters learned about, the second being that if anybody ever encountered the gun that their primary objective was to keep it from the hands of the supernatural.</p><p>Elkins laughed at the looks on their faces. “Relax, the vamps don’t have it.”</p><p>“Then who does,” John asked in an impatient tone.</p><p>“I’m gettin there Winchester.” Daniel narrowed a glare in John’s direction before continuing. “I was on the verge of passing out from blood loss when Dean and Cas marched in, guns blazing. I passed out and next thing I knew Dean had me in the backseat of his car. I made him stop here so I could grab the gun and he drove us to the hunters bar in Nebraska.”</p><p>“You don’t mean The Roadhouse do you?” Sam asked, confused.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s the place. Ellen gave me a safe place to recover and helped me get in touch with the Men of Letters. I stayed for a week but Dean left with Castiel after two days. I gave him the colt for his hunt as a thank you, Men of Letters told me it was turned in a couple weeks ago.” The old man let out a gust of air, “lemme tell ya, it’s been a relief not having to watch my back for demons who wanted it.”</p><p>Sam thought over what Elkins told him. Dean had been on a hunt which required the most powerful weapon on the planet, had it gotten the best of him? Maybe that was why Missouri couldn’t find him. It wasn’t surprising that Dean had dropped Elkins at the Roadhouse though, even though it was over six hours away. Dean told Sam that Ellen was the only Hunter safehouse he trusted besides Bobby’s. </p><p><em> Wait a minute </em> , Sam paused. <em> Didn’t Ellen say she hadn’t seen or heard from Dean since October? </em></p><p>“Who’s Castiel?” John asked.</p><p>“Oh Castiel is <em> awesome </em> ,” Charlie cut in before Daniel could answer, “he is this dorky guy in a trenchcoat. Kinda dreamy, super socially awkward.” That sounded like the guy Jerry and Tom had been describing. Sam wasn’t sure if he should be more surprised that Dean <em> had </em>a partner or if he should be surprised that that partner lasted longer than a month.</p><p>“I only talked to him for a couple of minutes before I met Mr. Elkins but–”</p><p>“Do you know what they were hunting?” Sam interrupted her before she could start waxing poetic.</p><p>“Uhhh,” Daniel scratched his head while he thought about it. “Yeah, said it was a yellow eyed demon, one of those prince of hell types.”</p><p>Sam felt his heart stop. The yellow eyed demon, now that was a monster he remembered.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Previously...</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Do you know what they were hunting?” Sam interrupted her before she could start waxing poetic.</i></p><p>  <i>“Uhhh,” Daniel scratched his head while he thought about it. “Yeah, said it was a yellow eyed demon, one of those prince of hell types.”</i></p><p>  <i>Sam felt his heart stop. The yellow eyed demon, now that was a monster he remembered.</i></p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>see end of the work for trigger warnings and how to avoid them</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>~ July 4th 1989 ~</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sam’s hands trembled, whether it was from the cold or stress he wasn’t sure. He hesitantly lifted the wet cloth to the wound, freezing just before he made contact. He felt his lower lip quiver and the tears prickling behind his eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dean, I…” Sam choked on a sob before it could tear it’s way out of his chest. His brother turned around to face him, his face calm despite the situation.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You okay back there Sammy?” He asked in amusement.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I-I-I,” Sam stuttered. He took a deep breath to calm himself, “I don’t wanna hurt you.” He clutched the wet towel to his chest, ignoring the water dripping down his front. He felt the tears that had been welling up spill out onto his cheeks. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean laughed in amusement, the reassuring sound helping Sam relax. “You have an awfully high opinion on your strength don’tcha? I bet you could punch me as hard as you could and I still wouldn’t even feel it.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sam sniffled, “but your back...” He trailed off as he looked at the wounds in front of him. Angry red welts criss crossed over skin with a couple of holes caked in drying blood. There was a particularly deep one in his shoulder.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean feigned surprise. “Is there something wrong?” He slowly glanced over his shoulder, the one that wasn’t bleeding, and his eyes widened comically. “Wow, didn’t even feel those there.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sam choked out a laugh through his tears, “Dean this isn’t funny.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The older boy’s eyes softened, “I promise you won’t hurt me Sammy.” At Sam’s obvious reluctance, he reached backwards and patted his knee apologetically. “I’m sorry Sammy. I would do this myself but I’m not flexible enough to reach everywhere. Besides,” Dean grinned, “think of this as getting even for sticking gum in your hair.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sam frowned, still reluctant. “You promise you won’t let me hurt you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I promise, you could never hurt me.” Sam nodded, he still didn’t want to do this but he trusted his big brother. Dean was always there for him, so if Dean needed help, Sammy would help. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sniffling, he lifted the rag to one of the more shallow cuts and began to dab at the blood surrounding it. As soon as he made contact Dean hissed and tensed up, making Sam jump back.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,” Sam hurriedly apologized. He felt the tears begin to spill over again and he felt his breath coming fast.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Relax,” Dean ordered, shocking Sam out of his panic. Dean took a breath before continuing, more gentle this time. “It’s just cold.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh,” Sam calmed his breathing down.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, sorry for scaring you,” his brother apologized.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sam nodded in relief, sitting back down behind Dean. He lifted the cloth and began to dab at the wounds again. Sam tried his best to make sure that the cloth was warm from that point on, apologizing every time Dean tensed up from the cold.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What did this?” Sam asked as he rang out the bloody towel into the tub the second time. He moved on to one of the deep ones.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s my own fault,” was Dean’s response. “I was stupid, I broke the rules and instead of apologizing I mouthed off. Dad was just teaching me a lesson and accidentally went too hard.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sam’s eyes widened. “Dad did this?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It wasn’t his fault,” Dean hurriedly assured Sam, “it was an accident. It was my fault.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I said it’s my fault, move on Sam,” Dean sounded angry. Sam felt his eyes burn again with more tears to come, upset that Dean was angry with him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His older brother sighed when he noticed. “Sammy, I promise everything is okay.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sam nodded, not wanting to say anything to make Dean upset again. Now that the dried blood was cleaned up it didn’t look too horrible. Sam told Dean that he was done.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean smiled, “I knew you could do it Sammy.” Dean then had him cover all the wounds with a thick ointment before placing a big bandage over each of them. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Great job Sammy, told you that you wouldn’t hurt me,” Dean had said once they were done. He looked tired though, so Sam helped him over to the bed where he laid down stomach first.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dean?” Sam asked as his brother drifted off.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hmm?” Dean hummed sleepily.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“If I mess up will dad do this to me too?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nah,” Dean said sleepily. He opened his green eyes to look into Sam’s own. “As long as you promise me something.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Anything,” Sam said quickly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Never, EVER, mention the yellow-eyed demon to dad.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why?” Sam asked.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Because it makes dad very angry,” Dean’s eyes were serious, even as they drooped with exhaustion. He reached out to hold Sam’s wrist. “Now promise me Sammy.” Sam looked into his brother’s pleading eyes. He glanced down at the shirt covering what he knew was countless painful marks. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I promise Dean,” Sam said finally.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ Now ~</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Then in that motel room, with his ten-year-old brother’s blood on his six-year-old hands, had been the last time anybody ever mentioned the yellow-eyed demon around Sam again. Until now, 16 years later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That didn’t mean he hadn’t looked on his own though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The day after that incident Sam had gone into the kitchen to see John passed out drunk, his belt on the floor next to him. That was the first and only time that John had beaten Dean. Sometimes though, Sam saw his brother sporting a black eye or walking like something hurt when he came back from a hunt. It only took a little bit of time for Sam to learn the difference between a monster injury and an ‘accident.’ Once Dean made it to highschool the ‘accidents’ had stopped, thankfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before they went to leave, Charlie pulled Sam to the side and gave him her number. Sam awkwardly stared down at the digits, trying to think of a way to let the girl down gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Charlie,” he said carefully, “I have a girlfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl cocked her head to the side. “What do you?...” Charlie trailed off. Once it clicked her eyes widened, “oh god no. I’m not like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>into</span>
  </em>
  <span> you. Men of Letters is just a bunch of stuffy old men and I kinda want a friend my own age, ya know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam nodded doubtfully, “as long you promise you want to talk for purely friendly reasons.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise,” Charlie said earnestly, “besides. You’re not my type.” She leaned in conspiratorially, “you don’t exactly got the uhh… The right </span>
  <em>
    <span>equipment</span>
  </em>
  <span> in your tool belt.” Sam had no idea what she meant, so he just stared at her waiting for her to explain. She sighed and leaned in to whisper, “I’m a lesbian dumbass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. OH! Sam laughed in relief, “oh man that’s a relief. Remind me to set you up with my friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charlie raised an eyebrow. “You know that being gay isn’t all that a girl needs in another girl right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Sam laughed, “but Jo is blonde, hot, and knows how to throw knives with deadly accuracy. That sound like your type?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The redhead gaped at him in surprise, “you mean the badass hunter slash bartender Jo? From The Roadhouse?” Sam nodded and her eyes grew impossibly wide. “Please. Please set me up with your friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After their exchange, Sam quickly shot Charlie a text message so she would have his number then got in the car next to John. His father was seething next to him, hands clenching tight on the wheel. Sam chose to not bring up the elephant in the room, not wanting his father to lash out at him for this. Instead he brought up another thing he figured out from listening to Daniel’s story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Elkins said that he and Dean saw Ellen at The Roadhouse back in December.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So?” John shifted the car into reverse and pulled out of the driveway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>So</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Sam mused. “Why is it that when I talked to Asg last week he said that he hadn’t even heard from Dean since early October?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John made a thoughtful noise, “you think he knows where Dean is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Couldn’t hurt to stop by,” Sam said reasonably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John shrugged, “looks like it’s time for a pitstop in Nebraska.” He turned the car onto a long winding road, like he had made the journey hundreds of times before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a couple minutes of silence John spoke again. “Sam there’s something I gotta tell you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam looked up in surprise. Their drives had been completely silent for the most part, and what John said sounded like the beginning of a conversation not exactly about the task at hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s about the yellow eyed demon,” John said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how it’s the creature that killed mom?” Now it was John’s turn to be surprised. Sam laughed at the startled look on his father’s face. “I figured it out on my own, you didn’t think you were the only one researching mom’s death were you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John looked ahead and sighed, “no I suppose not.” Sam raised an eyebrow and turned to look at his father. He had been expecting words, a temper, the John Winchester who had told Sam he wasn’t his son anymore after he left for school. Not… </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam really looked at him, for what he realized was the first time since he had left for Stanford. His father looked drained, the grey in his hair and in his face more prominent than ever. His eyes were sad and the bags under them prominent. To be succinct, he looked like crap. “What happened to you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John’s shoulders slumped in shame. “Dean happened.” Sam stared at him, waiting for him to continue. “After you left for school I tried to go after you, Dean followed me out to the car and tried to convince me it was a bad idea. I was angry though, and drunk. So I started the car and began to drive. Your brother jumped right out in front of me to stop the car.” Sam’s eyes widened in surprise. His stupid brother did</span>
  <em>
    <span> what</span>
  </em>
  <span>? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His father continued his speech. “My reflexes were too slow to hit the breaks on time and I hit Dean head on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam blinked at him, unsure of what to say. Dean had never told him about any of this. After he had left Sam hadn’t heard from Dean for a couple of weeks. He hadn’t been entirely sure why at the time, but this excuse made as much sense as any.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the wheel. “It wasn’t until I was sitting next to him in the hospital bed that I realized just how much Dean had gone through over the years, just to protect you from </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Not the yellow eyed demon, not vampires, not ghosts, just me. I’ve been sober ever since.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well wasn’t today just full of surprises. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The laugh John let out was humourless. “I was surprised too. I got your brother fast tracked for a solo hunting permit while he recovered so he wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore. Only reason I was looking for him at all is that I’d been going through the whole ‘ask for forgiveness’ step of alcoholics anonymous/ When I realized nobody had heard from your brother in a while I got worried. You’ve been there for the rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was Elkins part of your forgiveness tour?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John snorted, a genuine laugh this time. “Nah, I wasn’t drunk for that one. I got a call about a yellow eyed demon spotting in New Jersey. Daniel got mad about me leaving and went on the hunt anyways, ended up with a lame leg” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam wasn’t sure how to respond to John’s honesty. He knew what he was doing, this was John trying to make amends for everything he had done to Sam. And god it was tempting. Having a father again? Letting go of all this hate and fear and all the pain that he had buried down in himself, buried so deep down it was practically at his core.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking at his father’s tired face though, he remembered every single injury that Dean had hidden under his shirt. Every time that Sam had to duck a slap coming towards his face. Every time Dean jumped in front of him, gently urging John away from his drunken rage at Sam and into bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next to him, his father who looked like he was bracing himself for a blow. Sighing, Sam knew what to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t forgive you, I won’t forgive you,” Sam said quietly, “I’m not even sure it is possible for you to make up for what you put us through, especially Dean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John nodded, as if he expected that answer. “I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“However,” Sam continued, “if you can make it up to Dean and have him forgive you, then maybe.” John gave him a little half smile that Sam refused to return, turning to face the window instead. “We gotta find him first though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was another moment of silence between them, but Sam could feel his father struggling to find the words for something. Not being good at talking was apparently a genetic trait, great.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I…” John hesitated. “Can I ask about how school is going?” Sam raised an eyebrow, this really was some wacky bizarro world where his father was trying to be a good person. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged, “I got a full ride to Stanford Law next year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John’s smile wasn’t quite a beam, but it was definitely proud. “Really Sam? That’s awesome. Always knew you were too smart for your own good.” Finally, his father was giving him the reaction he had wanted for four years. Sam smiled bashfully and looked down at his hands, maybe John really had changed. “Anything else? What’s new in your life?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’ve been thinking about proposing to my girlfriend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John’s smile grew even wider, his hand moving down to tap Sam’s knee. “Tell me all about her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ August 10th, 2002 ~</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sam shouldered the duffle and slammed the car door closed, wincing at the loud noise. The sound of country music and drunk hunters laughing flowed from the bar in front of him. The air was humid and still, begging for a cool breeze, and smelled of hot fries and burgers. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mouth watering, Sam made his way over to the bar, gravel crunching underfoot. He swung the door open and tried his best to quietly sneak inside, wincing at the creaky hinges. Thankfully, most of the patrons seemed too drunk to notice a young kid lurking by the doorway. Taking a nervous breath, Sam peered around the restaurant for the woman his brother had described.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He accidentally made eye contact with a young blonde girl instead. She was staring him down across the room. In her hands were two large metal trays, supporting a couple empty glasses on one and four beer bottles on the other. Her eyes widened in surprise when he caught her staring and hurried to duck behind the bar. Sam was kind of impressed that she managed to do it without dropping anything.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A moment later, the girl straightened back up and made her way over to Sam. He looked back out the doorway, debating if he should run before this kid blew his cover. Before he could decide, she slid in front of him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You look a little young to be here,” she stared at him pointedly. Sam looked her up and down, taking in the small frame, acne, and large pimple on her nose. When she spoke her mouth had a flash of silver which Sam assumed were braces.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“So do you,” he spat back. He knew how childish it sounded the second that it left his mouth. His cheeks burned with embarrassment.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Her brow furrowed, “my mom runs the bar.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Your mom?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, why? You lookin for her?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m not sure,” Sam confessed, “my brother told me to look for a woman named Ellen Harvelle?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The girl smiled, teeth twinkling at the braces caught the light. “Yeah that’s my mom,.” She turned around and waved for Sam to follow her, “come on, mom’s in the back room doin inventory.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jo, as the girl had helpfully told him was her name, led Sam through a set of swinging doors and busy kitchen, chattering away about each person they passed by.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s Bobby, he’s only here to visit cause he has a crush on my mom. Asa over there stopped by cause he’s hiding from his mom. Rufus practically lives here now ever since we started serving his favorite whiskey.” Sam just tried to nod politely and keep up with the flurry of words. He ducked his head as he passed Bobby though, hoping his uncle wouldn’t recognize him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Finally, they made it to a slightly ajar door in the back of the bar. Jo rapped the door three times before peeking her head in. “Mom? You got a kid here lookin’ for you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Another one?” A voice came from the room. “This is the second one this week.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There was the sound of footsteps then the door swung open to a brown haired woman. She was short, but everyone was short to Sam, and had a tired face line with age. Her eyes were haunted in a way that Sam had come to associated with experienced hunters. Even so, her eyes had crinkles at the corners and laugh lines stood out against her cheeks. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ellen’s expression gave nothing away as she scanned Sam up and down. Sam tried not to fidget under her analytical gaze, waiting for her to draw whatever conclusion she needed. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>After what seemed like an eternity, Ellen let out a breath and broke her gaze. “Jo honey,” she turned to her daughter, “why don’t you leave us alone so we can talk?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But mom,” Jo complained.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Now Joanna,” Ellen ordered sternly. Jo glared and started grumbling under her breath in annoyance, turning on her heel to storm out. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ellen smiled after her daughter in exasperated fondness,.”Were you this bad when you were 15?” She asked in an amused tone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t think so ma’am, but my brother definitely was.” Sam’s polite tone was interrupted by his stomach growling at the smell of a fresh burger wafting into the room.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ellen snorted, “you sound like me when I was your age. But I know I was a little shit now.” She reached into the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out a protein bar which she deftly tossed to Sam. “Now why don't you eat that tell me who you are and why you’re here?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sam opened the protein bar and gratefully took a bite, using the time it took to chew to gather his thoughts. What was it his brother had told him to say? He swallowed nervously, looking back at Ellen’s calm, expectant gaze. He took a deep breath.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dean told me to ask you about Funkytown?” Ellen’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, mouth twitching downward.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh honey,” Ellen breathed out slowly, voice softening with knowing sympathy. “You can stay here as long as you need to.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ Now ~</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They pulled up to the roadhouse six hours later. The sky was orange as the sunset behind the rundown bar and a couple of regulars were trickling in. The whole place looked as though it hadn’t even changed. Memories flooding back at the familiar surroundings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had met Eileen here. She was 16, just two years younger than him, and there had been a haunted look in her eyes that reminded Sam of his own, of his brother’s. She was the only other one who Ellen had staying with her and only a couple months younger than Jo. The three of them spent most of their free time together, which mostly involved the girls hounding Sam for stories because they had already shared all their own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At night though, when it was just Sam and Eileen in the bunker under Ellen’s storage shed, things felt different. Eileen would spend the night teaching Sam ASL who taught her basic witchcraft in return, all the while talking about everything that they knew Jo just wouldn’t understand. Things that they didn’t feel comfortable sharing with a girl who still loved her mother and whose father had died of a regular old hunting accident. Somebody who wasn’t quite twisted up and ugly on the inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He told her about his mom, and his family’s vendetta against the creature that killed her. How he had been raised to be a hunter, and how he just wanted to get out. In exchange, Sam learned about Eileen’s parents. How they were killed by the same creature who made her deaf. How the men of Letters had gone to investigate the scene, finding only a crying baby and two dead legacy Men of Letters. How the Men of Letters were training Eileen to be a hunter,  and had promised her that only she was the one allowed to hunt down the Banshee who killed her parents. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tired rage in her eyes was all too familiar to Sam, having seen it in Dean’s eyes countless times whenever he talked about mom. In that moment afterwards, he had realized that this tough girl with eyes of steel and a fight burning deep inside her was going to be trouble. That if he didn’t watch himself, this girl would crush his heart to pieces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They only knew each other for a month before he left for school in September but had still kept in touch. They would text every day about everything. Eileen’s training with Ellen, her Men of Letters hunting certification exam, each time Jo brought back a new girl or boy to give Ellen a heart attack. Every day Sam would practice his ASL so he could surprise Eileen when she came out to visit him. It only took him a couple months to realize he had fallen in love with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two years after the summer they met, Eileen turned 18 and passed the hunting certification test first chance. She came over to celebrate, holding a bottle of whiskey she had snagged from the bar under Ellen’s nose. Sam was still 90% convinced Ellen knew about it and just let her get away with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three drinks in, Sam had asked her if she was going to start hunting the Banshee right away. To his surprise she had just shrugged noncommittally. Confused by her reaction, Sam had pressed to find out why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m excited to be a hunter, it’s what I like to do and it’s what I’m good at. But talking to you for these past couple years, I don’t know. Maybe getting to know you helped me realize I’m more than just a tool to get revenge for my parents.” Eileen had gotten all red and covered her face for a moment before holding up her hands to shakily continue what she was saying. “I had to make sure my own blind need for revenge didn’t kill me if I ever wanted to do this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, she leaned forward and pulled Sam into a kiss. It was sloppy at first because she was drunk and he had been too shocked to react and kiss her back. Eileen had gotten embarrassed and nearly stormed out of his dorm room without ever talking about it again. They figured it out thankfully, but not without Jo coming out to knock some sense into the two of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now, here he was. Four years after that month that changed everything. Sam’s eyes drifted to the unassuming storage shed behind the bar, feeling a pang of nostalgia. There was a huge dent on the side of the metal walls from when the three of them had gotten bored and started practicing with throwing knives. Ellen had been so </span>
  <em>
    <span>pissed</span>
  </em>
  <span> when she found out that Sam was surprised he lived to tell the tale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Speaking of Ellen and four years, he wasn’t sure he was ready to see her again. He had only lived with her for a month but she had made sure to call him once a month after school started to see how he was doing and tell him she was proud of him. Sam just </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>he was going to turn emotional once he saw he and didn’t want his dad to be a part of their reunion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, John had said he wanted to stay in the car. Sam tried not to show his relief as he stepped out and made his way to the entrance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He got a sense of deja vu as he stepped inside quietly. There were drunk hunters all around, laughing over country music and the familiar smell of deep fried food. Looking around the room for Ellen, he paused at the sight of the familiar blonde hustling a pool table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jo!” Sam called out. The girl looked for the source of the noise, grinning widely in surprise once they locked eye contact. Jo held up a finger, signaling that she needed a minute. Then she leaned over the table and proceeded to pocket every single ball, finishing off the eight ball with an innocent smile. She swiped the pile of money off the table and waved goodbye to the stunned college boys as she made her way over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be damned,” she laughed, “looks like they let just about any old Joe in here nowadays.” She looked completely different from when she had last come to visit. Sam had always thought she was beautiful, in a sisterly way of course, but the girl had insisted on being a girl and being insecure about the stupid things. Now that her braces were gone and the acne had long cleared up, her confidence had clearly spiked which made her practically radiant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Considering that Ash is currently half naked and passed out on the bar, I think that it was pretty much already established.” Sam gestured towards the man who snored loudly as he was addressed, proving Sam’s point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse you,” Jo said defensively, “Ash is a classy gentleman.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe when he’s catfishing somebody,” Sam fired back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jo smiled widely, launching herself forward to wrap Sam in a hug. “Man you have no clue how good it is to see you. God, how long has it been?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam had to think about that for a moment. “Wasn’t it when you had to drag Eileen back to Stanford to talk to me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blonde’s eyes brightened in glee, Sam realized too late he had given her a clear opening to make fun of him. “Didn’t I smack you because you called Eileen your best buddy after she tried to talk to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> my best friend,” Sam insisted, “I can be in love with her and have her still be my best friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jo rolled her eyes, “I can’t make fun of you when you’re being all sappy and in love. You disgust me Winchester.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Says the girl who went on a date with a shapeshifter furry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jo’s let out a long suffering sigh. “You go on </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> date with a really hot girl you met in a grocery store, and your friends make fun of you for not realizing she was into some kinky stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She asked you if you could pet her,” Sam reminded her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought it was supposed to be dirty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She told you that she liked it doggy style.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>dirty.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I regret ever telling you anything,” Jo cut him off with a glare. Sam shrugged, she should have known better. What kind of friend would be if he didn’t roast herfor having her date had try to convince Jo to fuck her while she was in dog form. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just saying that maybe you can’t mock me for my relationship.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can and I will,” Jo reminded him with a smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I promised this girl I met I would set her up with you. If you’re interested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jo raised an eyebrow. “Please promise me she’s human.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam laughed. “I’m pretty sure Charlie is. Said she already met you actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Charlie…” Jo trailed off pensively, racking her brain. Her eyes widened. “Wait, you don’t mean the hot ginger Charlie do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jo grinned widely. “I may just take you up on that later.” Ash snored again from on top of the bar, diverting their attention. “Maybe we should get him down from there, poor Rufus looks like he’s losing his appetite for beer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you get your mom for me I’ll get Ash down,” Sam offered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jo nodded in agreement, visibly relieved that she didn’t have to touch the half naked dude. “Deal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five minutes later, Ash had been unceremoniously yanked off the counter and thrown into his ‘office’ at the back of the bar. The guy was so drunk that he didn’t even wake up when Sam accidentally dropped him on his ass. After Sam had finished almost killing Ash, he started to pick up loose beer bottles and empty glasses from each table to pass the time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Ellen walked out from the back with Jo behind her. The older woman wasn’t ‘beaming’ exactly, but the small smile she had on her face as she approached Sam may as well have been. The second she was in front of him, she pulled Sam into a tight hug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good to see you Sam,” Ellen said warmly in greeting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Sam replied, still hugging her tight. “It’s really good to see you ma’am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellen pulled out of the hug, looking him over. “What did I tell you about calling me ma’am?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry Ellen, it’s a habit you can’t beat out of me.” There was some shouting and a crash from the back of the bar which drew their attention. A drunk Asa fox was sitting in the corner, dripping with beer and shards of glass on the table in front of him. A very angry girl standing over him shouting curses at his slack jawed expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jo sighed, “I got it.” She turned to walk away, grumbling under her breath about how it was ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>the third time this week Ava, get your shit together already</span>
  </em>
  <span>.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellen’s eyes twinkled in amusement as she turned back to Sam. “As much as I wanna hope this is a social visit, I know you’re still in school right now. So what’s wrong kid?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam sighed. “Can we talk in your office?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That bad?” A brief flash of concern crossing her features. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay then.” Ellen nodded then gestured for him to follow her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The office was just as cluttered as Sam remembered. There was a huge pile of papers in the corner labeled ‘mission reports’ which was at least a foot tall, the rug was coffee stained, and her fax machine had another stack on top that was at least half as tall as the mission report stack. Each page was being slowly fed through the machine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see work is keeping you busy as ever?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellen followed his gaze towards the fax machine in the corner and made a grimace in annoyance. “Men of Letters can’t find anybody qualified to pick up the slack round here so they just gave me that fancy shit instead. Now whenever I fill out a report I can just let it do its thing. Kinda glad though, running the hunters branch for the midwest sucks, but I would hate it even more if I had to have a partner slowin me down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I’m sure you do a better job than if a whole team of people were trying to run things,” Sam said sincerely. “I’m pretty sure the hunters would just go around them to you anyways.“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at you buttering me up,” Ellen laughed. She seemed pleased with what Sam said though so Sam took that as a victory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well it's the truth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm,” Ellen hummed. “Anyways, time to spill. What’s got you so freaked out that you need little old me to help you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam told her everything. About Dean going missing and his father helping him out. Ellen nodded along as he spoke without interruption, pulling up the mission reports and starting to go over them. When he got to the part about getting to Daniel Elkins’ cabin he watched her, waiting to see if she reacted. As he told her about Elkins saying he and Dean stayed at Ellen’s bar, she nodded in agreement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he stopped by for a day or two little over a month back. I can’t believe he’s missing, you sure he’s not just on an extended hunt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you did see him then?” Sam prodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah boy, why would I make that up?” Ellen flashed an equally confused and annoyed look his way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did Ash see him?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should hope so, moron helped me hook Dean up with this cursed painting case in upstate New York.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why did Ash swear up and down that nobody had seen Dean since October?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellen’s calm movements faltered at that. She turned her eyes back down to the paperwork and kept writing. “Sam, you’re being paranoid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bullshit,” Sam scoffed at her. Her reaction had been more than enough proof that Ellen not only had lied to him, but that she knew more than she was letting on. If she really wanted to help him find Dean she would have told him everything. “What the hell happened to my brother Ellen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she looked up at him, Sam was taken aback by the exhaustion and grief in her eyes. A realization hit him. “You know where he is don’t you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam–” Ellen started to say but paused mid sentence as the lights cut out. Sam looked up in surprise, eyes darting towards the office door. Coming from the bar was just the sound of cheesy country music, none of the usual rumble and chatter of the patrons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crap,” they said simultaneously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if Sam hadn’t just been verbally berating her and accusing her of… well, he wasn’t sure. Kidnapping? Whatever it was, as if it hadn’t just happened, the pair moved in sync. Ellen tossed Sam a shotgun and a bottle labeled ‘Holy Water’ before grabbing a salt shaker and an iron pipe for herself, leading him towards the bar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They burst through the doors ready to pounce, but froze at the sight in front of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone was either unconscious or dead on the ground around them. The windows were smashed in and the walls were flecked with blood. There were countless broken tables and chairs in the room, one of which provided a nest for a battered Jo. She had a nasty looking bleeder on her forehead and there was a dark spot of blood on her leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were others worse off than her. One had a broken beer bottle in his throat, blood no longer flowing from the wound. There was another facedown in a pool of his own blood and another whose neck was twisted at an obscene angle. Sam was relieved that nobody he knew seemed too beat up, feeling sick to his stomach for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His attention was drawn towards the figure standing near one of the pillars, holding one of the frat boys Jo had been hustling earlier by the throat. The figure turned to look at the two of them in surprise as Ellen and Sam walked in. Sam felt a pit in his stomach as a grin spread across the familiar face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just the girl I wanted, how ya doin Ellen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam choked on his words as they came out. “Dad what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> do you think you’re doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad,” John mused, “close but not quite.” At that his father crushed the throat of the man he had pinned against the wall. He shook blood off his hand turning to face them, eyes flashing yellow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we need to have a little chat.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Warnings: Child abuse, blood, and explicit violence.<br/>To skip the child abuse scene, you can skip the first flashback.<br/>For blood and gore, at the end of the chapter, there is a scene where you see John surrounded by people hurt and bleeding. So when Sam and Ellen leave the office you can just skip to next chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Previously...</p>
<p>
  <i>“Dad,” John mused, “close but not quite.” At that, his father crushed the throat of the man he had pinned against the wall. He shook the blood off his hand turning to face them, eyes flashing yellow. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I think we need to have a little chat.”</i>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>See end of work for trigger warnings</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>~ August 15th 2002 ~</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“How do you guys keep off monster radar here?” Sam asked Ellen one day. “Wouldn’t a control center for hunters trying to kill them be kinda a hot spot?” It wasn’t like the bar was exactly hidden or defended like other bunkers he’d been to. Or even hard to get into.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ellen laughed, “it’s only easy for you to get near here cause you’re human. See these?” She pointed towards the different posters on the wall.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What about them?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well,” Ellen walked over to a poster, lifting the corner to show a carved sigil in the wall, painted with something like blood and glowing faintly. She smiled at Sam’s amazement and lowered the poster before patrons could see. “Those are Men of Letters grade warding sigils. Any demon, monster, or ghost can't come within a hundred feet of this place without some serious pain. Let alone pass by them. Every wall here is reinforced with iron and silver too just in case, but these bad boys are all anybody needs.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Okay, I’m impressed,” Sam admitted. He looked around the bar at all the posters, trying to comprehend exactly how many of the sigils were protecting this place.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You think that’s impressive?” Ash piped up from his computer. He was working on triangulating a vampire nest for Asa. “Get this, the wards are like one of those fancy self powered reactors. They keep the electrical going and keep feeding each other at the same time. Each one takes a fully prepared spell and witch to put in place and putting them too close can cause an explosion on par with a nuclear bomb. Calculating the locations took the Men of Letters four months apparently.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sam raised an eyebrow, that actually was super cool. “So the lights stay on as long as the warding works and the warding works as long as the lights stay on?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You got it,” Ash laughed, “it’s kinda foolproof. Not only are the sigils indestructible but we also don’t gotta pay for electricity. Say, want me to teach you how to make knock off versions?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Knock off versions?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, you gotta repaint them every day and they don’t do the whole power thing but they can still keep the ugly out when you stay anywhere.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sam smiled, “sure. Thanks man.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Anytime.” Ash winked and turned back to his computer.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wait a minute,” Sam registered the nuclear bomb thing. “How did they figure out how far away the sigils needed to be from each other?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ash snorted. “Please, did you really think all those practice atomic bombs in the desert were just the government?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>~ Now ~</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam stared at the yellow-eyed demon in horror. He couldn’t believe it. The demon who had killed his mom, driven his father to monster hell bent on revenge, and was the reason Sam and Dean grew up like they did was right in front of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Possessing his father.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me tell ya kid,” the demon laughed, “there were a couple of times I thought for sure the gig was up. The times I forgot to pretend to sleep? The psychic who tried to warn you about me?” The demon tutted disapprovingly, “I thought Winchesters were better than this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You son of a bitch,” Sam hissed once he recovered from his shock. “You killed my mom you yellow-eyed freak–” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The demon snapped his fingers and Sam felt his mouth snap shut. “Now now,” the demon tutted disapprovingly. “There’s no need to be rude. I just wanted to chat.” Unable to speak, Sam just glared the demon down. The demon sighed in disappointment. “Such hostility. I really hoped we would get along. You were kind of growing on me you know? Like mold.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The demon waved his hand and Sam went flying across the room until he slammed against the wall. He briefly registered a flash of pain in his side but it was quickly overwhelmed by the adrenaline. Sam tried to move but the invisible force holding his mouth shut now had him securely in place. “Sit tight Sammy. Daddy dearest needs to talk to Mrs. Harvelle for a minute.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With those words, the yellow-eyed demon turned back to face Ellen. “Heya sweetheart, little birdie you know where Dean is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam followed his gaze to look at the woman, taking in her face which was grey with horror and shock. She was holding the metal rod defensively, but it was such a loose defensive position it was like she’d forgotten it was there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re dead,” Ellen said in a whisper of disbelief. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The demon’s eyes widened in surprise and looked himself up and down. “Am I really? I must have missed the memo, my sincerest apologies.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean shot you,” Ellen insisted, “he shot you and you died. He said you were gone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” the demon laughed. “I’m so sorry. It seems like there was a bit of a misunderstanding.” The demon's face settled into a cold smile which sent chills down Sam’s spine. “You see, Dean killed my brother </span>
  <em>
    <span>Azazel</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not me. An easy mistake to make I’m sure.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your brother,” Ellen said incredulously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was certainly surprised when I felt it happen. Normally I would be cool with you guys killing my brother, but now I got a bunch of demons banging on my door about how I need to avenge his plan for the apocalypse and ‘blah blah blah.’ Not to mention how I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> like Lucifer to stop grumbling in my ear from the cage, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who are you?” Ellen asked, ignoring the demon’s speech.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The demon sighed as if this whole thing was getting tedious. “Name’s Ramiel. Now can you </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> just tell me where the man who killed my brother is?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ellen’s gaze turned steely. “I’m not telling you shit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The demon shook his head in disappointment. “Why must you hunters make everything so difficult?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He snapped his fingers again and Sam choked as he felt a pressure crushing his throat. He gasped and tried to pry away the invisible force, struggling to take in a breath. Ramiel just looked up at Ellen, bored. “You have till he stops breathing to tell me where Dean Winchester is before I snap this boy’s pretty little neck and possess you for the answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ellen looked between Sam and the demon in horror. Sam watched the gears turning behind her eyes, desperately trying to think of a way out of the situation. He saw her lips move but couldn’t catch what she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What was that?” The demon asked, also unable to hear her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Ellen whispered. Turning her eyes to settle on the demon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The demon frowned, “well that’s not very helpful Mrs. Harvelle.” The demon clenched his hand into a fist and the pressure increased. Sam tried to gasp for air, blinking the black spots in his vision away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t!” Ellen insisted, desperation coloring her tone. “I don’t know where he is, I just know how to find him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ramiel smiled. “Much better.” The demon opened his fist and the force holding Sam to the wall disappeared, causing him to fall to the ground gasping for air. “Well chop chop,” Ramiel ordered her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ellen moved behind the bar and started pulling out a box from underneath. Ramiel sighed in boredom and started pacing around the bar, stopping to slam a hunter’s head against the ground when he stirred. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gasping for air, Sam looked back up at Ellen who was staring at him from the corner of his vision. Once they made eye contact Ellen paused her rummaging to mouth something at him. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Distract him.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Confused, Sam nodded, just hoping she had a plan. He turned back to the demon while still clutching his throat. “Were you the one who killed my mom?” He said, wincing at the rasp in his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ramiel paused his pacing to look over at Sam. “Sorry kid, never had the pleasure. Azazel was the one obsessed with little kids and their mommies.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And Dean killed him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Ramiel rolled his eyes. “Then his little subjects got the idea to drag me out of retirement to avenge Azazel, or whatever.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So Dean got revenge for mom,” Sam rasped out, “he killed the demon who killed mom and to repay him you’re just going to let him be killed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not ‘letting’ him be killed, I’m the one killing him. Aren’t you paying attention?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam ignored the demon, he wasn’t talking to him anyways. This was between him and his father.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean finally does what you’ve been training us our whole lives for, what you destroyed our childhood for, and you’re just let this guy kill him?” Sam glared at him as he spoke. “It doesn’t matter that you aren’t in control. If you let him use you for this then Dean’s blood, your </span>
  <em>
    <span>son’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> blood, will be on your hands.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ramiel’s bored eyes snapped to attention once he realized what Sam was getting at. “You’re such an annoying little shit.” The demon waved his hand and Sam was slammed into the wall again. “Talk to your daddy all you want kid, but John Winchester ducked out a long time ago. All you’re gonna accomplish is pissing me off.” The demon clenched his hand and the pressure on Sam’s airway reappeared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dad,” Sam choked out, struggling to breathe. “I know you hate me, but this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dean</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Sam's vision began swimming from lack of oxygen and he knew he was going to black out soon. “After all the shit you’ve done to him over the years, he doesn’t deserve </span>
  <em>
    <span>this.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Hoping to god that he had distracted the demon long enough for Ellen. As the darkness set in he could only manage to form one word. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pressure suddenly eased and a pair of arms caught Sam as he fell forward. He looked up groggily and brown eyes and the face of his father, now contorted with pain. The arms lowered Sam into a sitting position in choppy, forced movements. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dad?” Sam asked, vision swimming from loss of oxygen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I may be,” his father gasped out like the words hurt him, “a piece of shit father.” John grimaced and clutched his head, nails digging into his hairline. “But I’ll die before you use me to kill my kid.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John let out a cry of pain and collapsed to the ground, trembling with the obvious effort to keep control. His father looked up at him with eyes wide, clouded with pain. “And I’ll be damned if I die without my son knowing that no matter how much I fucked up, I still care about him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After those words came out of his mouth John’s eyes flashed yellow, the demon in control again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite being back in the driver's seat, Ramiel remained kneeling on the floor, visibly shaking and face contorted with rage. “Dammit John,” the demon hissed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam felt a surge of</span>
  <em>
    <span> something </span>
  </em>
  <span>come over the room. His ears popped, the lights on the street outside the bunker started bursting into sparks, and then. Still, the demon could not move.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ellen finally popped up from behind the bar brandishing a pistol that cocked towards Ramiel. “I’m sorry John,” Sam heard her whisper. Then there was a loud bang and a hole appeared in his father's head between the eyes. Sam watched, numb, as sparks flashed around the bullet and his father’s body glowed yellow from the inside before collapsing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Both the demon and his father were dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-+-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam was only able to sit there as the other hunters began to come to, dizzy from loss of oxygen and shock. He vaguely remembered Ellen taking control by organizing the hunters, making calls, and barking orders. Overall, just being her usual badass self.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He must have blacked out at some point because he came to the familiar barracks under the storage shed. There was a warm hand clutching his own and the pressure of something pressing on his stomach. Looking down, there was a familiar figure asleep in the chair next to him using his stomach as a pillow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He went to push a strand of hair out of her eyes but the arm not being held by Eileen was held against his chest in a sling and his throat was definitely bruised. He was surprised to see a bandage covering his side, lifting it to see a set of stitches on a long jagged wound. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The movement stirred Eileen, causing her to open her eyes and blink up at him sleepily. The moment she realized he was awake her eyes widened and she sat up, alert.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam,” she said in relief. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” he smiled back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pulled her hands out of his so she could sign. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘</span>
  </em>
  <span>I was already on my way here to meet up with you when I got the text from Ellen that you were hurt. I think I broke nearly every speeding limit.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why were you on the way to meet me? I thought you were still on that vamp nest in Oregon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eileen’s expression faltered. ‘That’s not important. She gave him a small smile and changed the subject. “When I got here I didn't even get a chance to talk to her. What happened exactly?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam chose to drop it, instead catching her up on everything. With his arm in a sling he couldn’t sign so he just tried his best to make sure he spoke slowly so she could read his lips. When he got to the part about Ellen shooting and killing the demon he had to take a moment, still not entirely over the shock of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam laughed humorlessly. "Honestly I should have known something was up. He was too nice." He stared down at his hands for a while, picking at a piece of dead skin. </span>
  <span>“You know what the worst part is? Even though I’m only alive because he supposedly cared about me enough to overcome demonic possession, I’m kind of glad that he’s gone.” Sam looked down at his hands, not wanting to meet her gaze. “Does that make me a monster?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘No</span>
  <em>
    <span>,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Eileen assured him, “it just means you’re human. He put you and your brother through hell as kids and you have been scared of him for as long as I have known you.</span>
  <em>
    <span>”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sam looked down at his hands, still not reassured. Eileen tapped his wrist for him to look at her again before continuing. ‘And it’s okay to be upset that he’s dead at the same time.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam took a deep breath at her words, feeling something settle in his chest. Eileen had this knack for knowing how Sam was feeling better than he did himself, and somehow she had said exactly what he needed to hear. He looked up at her reassuring gaze, confused to find a sadness underneath it. Something was definitely wrong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eileen’s facade collapsed. ‘“Sam,” she said out loud in a pleading tone. “Not now, please. We can wait until tomorrow, when you’ve had time to rest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A pit of dread started forming in the pit of his stomach. He and Eileen didn’t keep secrets from each other. There was only one thing he could think of that Eileen would want to wait to tell him. One reason for the devastated look in her eyes. He didn’t want it to be true though. He wouldn’t believe it until she told him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eileen.” Sam stared at her unflinchingly. “Eileen, why were you coming here to meet me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eileen’s eyes shone as she looked up to meet his eyes. She reached out to grab his hand, taking a deep breath. To prepare herself or calm herself down Sam was not sure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam, when we were on the hunt we found a mass grave for vamp victims. We had to load the bodies up for the local police and I met this woman. She was deaf too so we ended up hanging out and chatting. She told me about how she moved from a small town a couple days ago and how in her fifteen years on the force she had only seen one other death before the mass grave. So, I asked her about it…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eileen trailed off, a single tear slid down her cheek. She reached up to brush it off. “She said she got a call because of a body they found in the river two weeks back. Blonde male, six feet tall. I figured it was a long shot but decided to check it out. They cremated the body but I found the autopsy report.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She still wasn’t crying fully, but her voice was tight with repressed emotion. “Even with the matching tattoos and the pictures of his body I still couldn’t believe it. I mean, what are the odds right? Here you are searching the country for him and I accidentally find him through an unrelated hunt?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eileen reached into her pocket, pulling out a small evidence bag to place into his hand. “It wasn’t until I got into the personal possessions that it finally became real.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam looked down at the bag in front of him. The necklace inside was stained with dried blood and the cord was slightly torn in several places. Even so, Sam would recognize it anywhere. He tightened his fist around it, feeling a pang in his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Based on the report I think it was demons,” Eileen added softly. Sam didn’t reply. With the shock of everything that happened and now this? Eileen put her hands over the amulet, tears quietly flowing down her cheeks, she didn’t have any more words to say</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His brother was dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-+-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later, Eileen helped Sam out of the bunker to go talk to Ellen. The wound on his side hurt like a bitch even with the painkillers he had taken so he needed to lean on her to walk. She didn’t mention it though so he was grateful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they got to the bar it was bustling with activity. Men of Letters hunters and witches were all working together to put the bar back together and clean up the mess the demon left behind. There were some temporary sigils like the ones Sam had back in his apartment up on the walls and all of the bodies were gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ellen herself was sitting in her office quietly nursing a cup of coffee. Jo was sitting next to her with her bandaged leg propped up on a stack of files. There was a bandage over her right eye and a nasty bruise on her temple but she seemed okay, which relieved Sam immensely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Sam asked as he hobbled in. Jo held up her hands to translate for Eileen as he spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m holding up,” Ellen sighed. She took a sip of her coffee and peered over Sam’s shoulder to stare at the workers. “Just got a small concussion and the racket those guys are makin’ ain’t helping.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jo?” Sam asked as Eileen helped him settle down into a chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not going tap dancing any time soon but I’m okay,” Jo reassured him. “We got three casualties though, and one guy in intensive care. Men of Letters are gonna have a field day covering this up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam sighed, kind of mad that Jo had set him up for a perfect segway. “Speaking of Men of Letters covering things up...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ellen looked up at him pointedly. “Is now really the time?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ellen,” Sam sighed, “this isn’t about you lying to me.” He turned to Eileen. ‘Can you tell them?’ Sam wasn’t sure if he would be able to get through it without breaking down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me what?” Ellen asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The others were silent as Eileen told them the news. Jo’s face fell into a devastated expression and tears welled up in her eyes until she was fully crying, tears silently falling down her face. Ellen didn’t cry, but her expression was grief stricken as she spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam,” Ellen breathed out softly once Eileen was done. “I’m so sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want you to apologize,” Sam bit back coldly. He felt guilty immediately for snapping at her but he figured he got a pass, what with finding out his brother died and all. “I want you to tell me why you lied to me about knowing where he was.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ellen slumped in exhaustion. “I really didn’t know though.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bullshit, you told that demon you knew where to find them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well he didn’t exactly seem like he would react well if I told him the truth,” Ellen pointed out. She sighed, taking a long drink of her coffee. “Look Sam, I really don’t know where he is, I just needed to stall for time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam nodded, that was something he could buy. “Why did you have Ash lie to me about seeing him though?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because of this.” Ellen leaned down and pulled out a camcorder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam looked at it, raising an eyebrow. “Is that his sex tape or something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gross dude,” Jo laughed wetly. Sam glanced over at her as she wiped at her face. Ellen just continued her story, ignoring both of them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean called back around November. Missouri had noticed that Dean’s future kept having black smoke and whiting out randomly, so she told him she was worried that a demon was tracking him. We called a psychic named Pamela for a second opinion to see what she thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure enough, she confirmed Missouri’s suspicions. Then she told us the demons were angry because they lost you when you left  for Stanford, and there was some deadline coming up they needed you for. So we agreed to keep you and Eileen as far away from him as long as we could. Then we told every hunter we could think of to be as unhelpful as possible with helping you find him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Things seemed to be going okay, he would check in occasionally to let us know he was alive and demons seemed to not bother messing with him. Then back in January, Dean comes waltzing in with his new partner dragging a half dead Daniel Elkins.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Again with the partner, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sam mused to himself. He couldn’t help but wonder to himself if maybe this partner was the one who got his brother killed. A flash of anger flared up in Sam at the thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He didn’t tell us anything other than that he had the colt and it was safe.” Ellen kept speaking, unaware of Sam’s thoughts. “We got a memo for a case while he was here and Dean snatched it before we could send somebody else. That was the last time we saw him in person.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did you get the colt then?” He asked. “And what does this have to do with the camcorder?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m getting there, quit being so impatient boy.” Sam snapped his mouth shut, thoroughly chastised. “Anyways,” Ellen continued, “a box came in the mail back in February from him with the colt and this camcorder. The only thing on it was this video.” Ellen put the camcorder in front of him, video paused on an image of Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam reached forward and carefully took it from her hand. He moved his finger over the play button, hesitating for a moment. He had no idea what he was going to see but he was going to kill his brother if this was a suicide tape or something. He pressed play.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey Ellen,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dean grinned at the camera in his usual mischievous smile. Sam’s heart twisted in grief at the familiar sound of his brother’s voice. This was the first time Sam had seen Dean’s face in four years. His brother’s cheeks had filled out and he no longer looked so gaunt. Other than a split lip and a scar over his right eye he seemed okay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam swallowed a lump in his throat and continued watching.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “</span>
  <em>
    <span>My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach and frisky women.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean’s eyes flicked towards something behind the camera at ‘frisky women’ but continued without hesitating, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>and just killed someone.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I need you to know something,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean leaned forward, teasing tone gone. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I need you all to know that I’m not dead, but demons are still after me and they are royally pissed off that I offed their boss. They want my ass but I think Sam is finally safe, so at least there is that much.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m giving you to colt, should be in the box if USPS doesn’t bitch about me flaunting my Men of Letters special stamps. Keep it safe, I sure as hell won’t be able to.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dean let out a bark of laughter. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Y’all know how crap I am at keepin’ track of things. I’m pretty sure the only thing I haven’t managed to lose at his point is this.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam felt his breath catch as his brother held up an amulet on a chain around his neck. It was the Samulet. The same samulet currently caked in blood weighing down his pocket. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Anyways, the point of this ain’t to talk about how shit I am at keeping track of the most important weapon on the planet, It’s to tell you that I need your help. I need to disappear.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I need you to keep people off my back and make sure that nobody comes looking for me, especially my dad or Sam. And I know it's a lot to ask, but when the Men of Letters starts to look for me I need you to stonewall them too.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean snorted. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Who am I kidding, you’ll probably have a field day giving the suits hell.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I know you’re not gonna like this, but I’m also not telling you where I’m going, and I know this doesn’t make a lick of sense but I promise one day it will.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sam noted that while his brother was clearly devastated at having to do this, whatever the reason was had him sounding better than he had in years. After the last sentence he paused, eyes flicking behind the camera again before settling down towards his hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“In case Sammy is a stubborn little shit, this part is for him.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dean looked up at him with his reassuring ‘I got you Sammy, it’s okay’ smile. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I know that you’re confused but you should know Ithat despite how everything seems, I’m happy. I’m really, truly, and totally happy.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean paused and took a deep breath, eyes flicking behind the camera once more. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“So do me a favor, don’t look for me. I’m going to a safe place. The safest place I can be. And I know you’re gonna be fine cause I’ve seen you Sammy and I’ve watched you grow.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dean’s eyes softened, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>you don’t need me anymore Sammy.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You got that awesome girlfriend you told me about and your life together, and I am so unbelievably </span>
  </em>
  <span>proud</span>
  <em>
    <span> of you Sammy.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean looked down at his hands, shaking his head in disbelief.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “My little genius brother is going to law school and I couldn’t be more proud. Now do me this one favor and go back to school, go back to the life you worked your ass off for.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Off topic but don’t kill dad if you see him either. He’s a bastard and a drunk but he’s gotten a lot better, and I would kinda miss the guy if he died.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean looked down at his hands quietly for a moment before looking up again. Sam didn’t know whether he should be glad that Dean wasn’t alive to see Ellen kill their father.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>“You won’t be able to hear from me for a while, but since I know what an emotional little girl you are–” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sam rolled his eyes despite himself </span>
  <em>
    <span>“–you should know that with all the things I fucked up, being your older brother was one thing I am proud of. So don’t think that me not telling you where I’m going is me wanting to get away from you too.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“See you on the other side of this, Bitch.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dean leaned forwards to tap something and the camera stopped recording, frozen on the frame of Dean leaning forward with the Samulet hanging from his neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jerk,” Sam mumbled back instinctively. A mix of emotions churned in his gut as he handed the camcorder back to Ellen. Anger, amusement, grief, happiness, and annoyance and confusion in turmoil. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked up, throat thick with emotions.  “Thank you Ellen, for showing me this.” He cradled the camcorder to his chest, subconsciously protecting his brother.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Ellen sighed. “When Dean Winchester makes a decision there really isn’t anybody who can change his mind, let alone find him to change his mind in the first place.” Her face crumbled as the situation finally seemed to sink in. “And now he’s gone.” She grabbed a nearby bottle of whiskey and poured some into her coffee. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The good really do die young.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Trigger warnings: Blood and asphixiation, death</p>
<p>Also, this was not meant to redeem john winchester in any way. I just think he loves his kids in his own twisted way even though his actions have no excuse.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Previously...</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Ellen sighed. “When Dean Winchester makes a decision there really isn’t anybody who can change his mind, let alone find him to change his mind in the first place.” Her face crumbled as the situation finally seemed to sink in. “And now he’s gone.” She grabbed a nearby bottle of whiskey and poured some into her coffee. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“The good really do die young.”</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean Winchester is dead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was a fact that Sam had to wake up to every single day. It rang in his ears as he got dressed, brushed his teeth, ate breakfast. It echoed in his ears, haunting him. Ramiel had come to get him when the break was starting so he only missed a couple days of school. Only a couple days of make up work for the time he spent searching for Dean.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean Winchester is dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once the Men of Letters caught wind of his brother’s death they asked for all of the records from the coroner’s office, but Sam couldn’t bring himself to read it until nearly a month later. The contents described his brother’s defensive wounds and his cause of death, stabbed through the heart by a strange blade. The Men of Letters looked into it and it looked like the wound was called an ascha blade. It literally translated to ‘Blade of God’. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean Winchester is dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They followed him on his hunt for Dean’s mysterious partner who was with him in the months leading to his death. But when he called around, every hunter insisted that, until showed up with Dean back in November, nobody ever met the guy. After combing through the Men of Letters database, the closest thing ‘Castiel’ he could find was an archangel named Cassiel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually he called Charlie for a favor, asking her to see about putting her hacking skills to use. She got back to him less than an hour later, and the news wasn’t great. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently the ‘Castiel’ she met was actually a man named Jimmy Novak, a radio salesman from a small town in Illinois. Apparently he disappeared at the same time his brother did, and his body was found two towns over from Dean’s. He had died around the same time from the same weapon. He had a wife and kid but Sam didn’t want to bother them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So much for the theory that Castiel was the one who killed his brother. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean Winchester is dead. </span>
</p>
<p><span>Three months later, his wound was healed but the grief remained. Reality a constant nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. The world just felt wrong,</span> <span>knowing Dean wasn’t in it. Throughout his whole life, his brother had protected him from the world, and it was ultimately what got him killed.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>If it wasn’t for Eileen, Sam wasn’t sure what he would have done. She stuck by his side through it all, holding his hand and just </span>
  <em>
    <span>being</span>
  </em>
  <span> there for him. Grieving </span>
  <em>
    <span>with </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. Making sure he didn’t do something stupid like selling his soul to bring his brother back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even with her there though, there were hard days. Days where something would happen and he would instinctively take out his phone to text his brother about it. Days where he would be angry or needed his brother’s horrible advice. Or ever just days where he saw something that reminded him of Dean. Those were the days where the grief would well up, drowning him all over again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean Winchester is dead. Dean Winchester is DEAD. DEAN WINCHESTER IS DEAD. DEAN WINCHESTER IS– </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dean Winchester is saved.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The whisper voice cut into his dream one night, piercing through the nightmares Sam was having of his brother's dead eyes. His nightmares of his father getting shot between the eyes right in front of him. His nightmares of Jo bleeding out in front of him...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dean Winchester is dead</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” his own thoughts reminded the voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dean Winchester is saved,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> the voice insisted. It blew away the nightmares, leaving Sam in a shifting landscape which made it impossible. He felt the sensation of a breeze brushing gently across his face and heard the sound of wings flapping. The image finally stilled into a nearly blinding blank whiteness</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Where would you go to be safe?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~ </span>
  <em>
    <span>July 10th 1989 ~</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Who is Uncle Bobby?” Sam asked Dean. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’ve met him before,” Dean insisted. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“But I don’t remember him.” Sam said in confusion. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“He’s cool I promise,” was Dean’s only reply. His brother was leaning forward in the seat next to him, avoiding touching his back to the seat. Sam knew that it was still hurting but Dean hadn’t asked him for help with it again. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>They were sitting in the back of the car as John drove them to whoever this mysterious “Uncle Bobby” was. Their dad had said they needed to stay with him while he went on a hunt in North Dakota. He had made a complaint about Dean limping around like an invalid so he’d be useless on the hunt. Sam was confused about why his dad was mad at Dean for hurting, but his brother had told him to drop it. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It was okay though, he was just excited to hang out with his brother without dad yelling at him for a while. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>They pulled up to a rickety house with a bunch of old cars around it. Dean told him it was called a ‘scrapyard’ and that Bobby sometimes fixed those cars. He seemed excited whenever he talked about it. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A tired looking old man walked out of the house as they parked, stopping to grab Sam and Dean’s duffle bags. Sam helped Dean out of the car slowly, not wanting to jostle him too much. The man looked over when Dean let out a tiny gasp of pain but didn’t say anything.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“How long,” The man asked gruffly.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Week, maybe more,” John replied equally curt.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fine, I got the idjits. You can go.” The man made a dismissive gesture and turned towards the house.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>John nodded after him and turned briefly to the boys. “Be good for uncle Bobby boys. I’m gonna be back in a couple weeks okay?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Bye dad,” they said in unison. John got in the car and drove off, the impala kicking up a storm of dust in his wake. Sam turned to walk towards the house with Dean. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sam kept it to himself that, if this old man was uncle Bobby, he wasn’t as impressed as Dean was. The guy seemed like he wanted nothing to do with them.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Once inside, Sam got nervous and instinctively hid behind his brother as he saw the man walking around cursing. He was tearing through the cabinet underneath the sink like a man possessed, pausing once he heard the boys walk inside. He looked over at them and the angry expression softened somewhat.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey kid,” Bobby said gently. It was a miracle to Sam, seeing his brother’s shoulders relax. The tension he had been holding in for weeks just dissolved at the man’s words. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hi Uncle Bobby,” Dean whispered. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bobby finally found whatever he was looking for and stood up. It was a big red first aid kit like the one that Sam had used in the hotel room. He walked back over towards Dean and crouched in front of him. “Where does it hurt?” He asked.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Instead of answering, Dean just turned around and lifted his shirt. Sammy tried to duck around to see but Dean kept him from looking. Bobby grumbled at the sight and said some words about their dad that Dean told Sammy he wasn’t allowed to ever repeat. Bobby lowered Dean’s shirt and turned him around to pull him in for a hug, cupping the back of his head and the one shoulder that wasn’t hurt. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s okay boy,” Bobby reassured him, “you’re safe here.” He turned his gaze towards Sam, eye blazing with a fierce protectiveness. “You will always be safe here.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>~ Now ~</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam opened his eyes in a start, the answer to his dream’s question on the tip of his tongue. He got out of bed and made for the pile of mail by the door, only needing a moment before he found it. The postcard from Bobby that he got back in February. He flipped over the card to read the message.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So hey Idjit. I’m okay and I’m not dead. All is good and I hope you’re also not dead somewhere. For god’s sake though, you gotta call me sometimes so I stop worrying dumb A. Eat well and say hi to Eileen.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>- Bobby</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bobby wasn’t the type to send a postcard. Now that he had sent one he seemed like he was having a stroke while he was writing it. Sam circled the first and last letter of each sentence, hoping his theory was right</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>S - A - F - E</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>D - E - A - N</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Practically vibrating with excitement, and a little surprise he was right, he immediately moved to his closet and grabbed a bag to start shoving things into. Toothbrush, clothes, razor, and other things for an overnight trip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam?” Eileen asked sleepily. He turned around to see his girlfriend lean over to turn on the light.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Go back to sleep,’ Sam signed, ‘I’m just going to Bobby’s.’ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eileen sat up and stretched, cracking her neck size to the side. ‘Perfect, I’ll come with you.’</span>
</p>
<p><em><span>‘</span></em><span>That’s not really necessary,’</span> <span>Sam tried to insist.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>‘Well I guess that makes me an awesome girlfriend,’ Eileen raised an eyebrow in challenge, ‘since I’m going with you anyways.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam held up his hands in mock surrender and pulled Eileen’s bag down for her to pack herself. ‘I was gonna head out after I packed and just get breakfast on the road.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I’ve been craving an egg muffin from McDonald’s.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-+-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The drive from Stanford to Sioux Falls was 26 hours on it’s own. With rest stops, bathroom breaks, and needing to sleep the drive should have been 30 hours. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t accounted for Eileen though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman drove like she was the only one on the road. She strategically swerved around cars, changing lanes. She blew through nearly every stop sign and Sam was fair certain she never went less than ten below the speed limit. He was both in awe and terrified of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When it was his turn to take over the wheel, he drove mostly responsibly. He hoped that helped the karma balance out for the two of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They showed up at Bobby’s place in 24 hours, tires slightly smoking. The look of slack jawed surprise on Bobby’s face when they swung the door open was almost comical. Almost.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t take this the wrong way, but what the hell are you two idjits doing here?” Bobby asked once he overcame the shock. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted to ask you something,” Sam answered, signing while he spoke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you couldn’t call to ask?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well you didn’t bother to call and tell me you knew where Dean was when I was looking for him four months ago in March,” Sam replied evenly</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The three of them were silent. Eileen, because she had already told Sam many times in the car that he was acting ridiculous but had promised not to say anything to Bobby herself. Sam because he didn’t want to add anything that ruined his surprise attack. As for Bobby, Sam couldn’t read his blank expression for a reason why.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After what felt like an eternity, Bobby broke out in a bout of laughter that Sam wasn’t sure how to handle. The older man’s eyes crinkled into a fond expression as the laughter tapered off, a warm smile spreading across his face before he spoke. “I can’t decide if you’re really this dumb or just on a special brand of dumbass today.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Sam asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I sent you a postcard in </span>
  <em>
    <span>February</span>
  </em>
  <span> to let you know he was safe” Bobby rolled his eyes. “Did you just happen to forget demons and the Men of Letters can bug phone lines? I couldn’t exactly tell you anything or I would have blown his cover. Come on son, use your brains.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam stared at him in bewilderment. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The older man let out a long suffering sigh. “And I thought you were the smart one. You boys I swear.” Bobby turned around to walk inside. Sam and Eileen followed him to the kitchen where he pulled down a full bottle of whiskey and took a long drink. “You boys are gonna be the death of me. Did you know that when Dean went into hiding he wanted me to leave his first name as is? Doesn’t that moron know changing your name is the whole point of going undercover?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that how he got killed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bobby paused before his next sip. “What the hell are you talkin bout?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam furrowed his brows in confusion, had he really not heard? “Bobby, the Men of Letters confirmed Dean’s death back in March. You were invited to the funeral...” Sam trailed off</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really,” Bobby lowered the whiskey from his mouth and looked at Sam.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. His partner was a couple towns over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bobby’s face was void of emotion as he stared at Sam unmovingly, not speaking another word. After what felt like an eternity Bobby sighed. “I can’t believe they really bought the shifter body double trick. Thanks for letting me know.” He brought the bottle back to his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Sam sputtered. His brain was making that noise that computers did before popping up with that ‘Error 404, page not found’ message. “Bobby, the Men of Letters confirmed it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well clearly they forgot to notice that the body was just a little too melty to be human,” Bobby laughed. “What kinda so called ‘experts’ are running the morgue nowadays? Schoolchildren?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The body was examined by a coroner at a sheriff station,” Eileen cut in. “They cremated the bodies before we got there, but they had pictures and different possessions that belonged to Dean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No kidding?” Bobby raised an eyebrow. “Well that’s lucky.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Besides,” Eileen added on. “Men of Letters recently hired Garth to take over Mike’s position as medical examiner.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam looked over at Eileen. “I’m sorry, they got a dentist doing human autopsies?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A dentist is still a doctor,” she said defensively, “it’s not like he can kill them twice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bobby roared in laughter at that. “Eileen, I missed you. You gotta take more hunts around here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would but my partner is a bit stuck trying to kill literally every vamp in Montana.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gordon?” Bobby asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gordon.” Eileen confirmed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gordon,” the name dripped with disgust as it came out of Sam’s mouth. Gordon had nearly gotten Eileen killed on her first hunt, so he wasn’t a huge fan of the guy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Bobby moved on with the subject. “I promise you Dean is fine, he just checked in last month.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now it was Sam’s turn for his jaw to drop in surprise. “You know where Dean is? He’s alive?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You seem a little slower on the uptake than usual. What about ‘the body was a shifter’ did not register?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Forgive me for not assuming the brother I spent the last four months grieving for was alive with just that as evidence.” Sam tried to not get angry at Bobby. After all, if Sam had actually gone through his mail instead of going out for drinks, all the pain after the past few months would have never happened..</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For his credit, despite his teasing and general tiredness with the whole situation, Bobby stood there patiently while Sam overcame the shock of the situation. His brother was alive. Dean Winchester was not dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why did he do all this though?” Sam asked. “Why would he let me think he was dead?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not my business to tell you,” Bobby shrugged. “But I can tell you that he’s neck deep in shit that would make your mind melt. I can help you get in contact with him, but trust me when I say you need to stay away.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t care how dangerous it is,” Sam said stubbornly. This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dean</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his brother who had spent his whole life protecting Sam. He may have sworn off hunting, but there were two people in this world who he wouldn’t hesitate to get back into the life for. One was Eileen, and the other Bobby just brought back from the dead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam,” Bobby sighed and put down the bottle. “I know you want to help, but I can’t in good conscience let you get mixed up in this shit too. Hell, Dean technically doesn’t need to be involved either, he is too just damn stubborn for his own good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bobby, please, Sam pleaded, “Dean’s the only family I got left. I don’t care how dangerous it is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bobby’s eyes turned sad at that, he lifted the bottle to his mouth again. “Family don’t end in blood boy,” he reminded him before taking another drink of liquor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Sam agreed. His eyes flickered over to Eileen. “No it doesn’t Uncle Bobby.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a long suffering sigh, Bobby finally put down the bottle of whiskey. Bracing himself on the table, he finally looked back over in Sam’s direction with tired eyes. “Sam, you do realize that if you go to visit him, you could accidentally blow his cover.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘We will cross that bridge when we get it,’ Eileen signed. She moved her way over to Sam and slipped their hands together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The older man stared at the two of them for a moment before turning away, cursing under his breath. Sam had a sense of deja vu from the first time he visited Bobby’s. Bobby looked up at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. “You idjits are definitely gonna be the death of me.” Sam tried not to smile in relief at his victory. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam watched as he walked to his overflowing bookshelf and started pulling down novels at random, pausing to flip through each one. He stopped at a small book titled </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good Omens</span>
  </em>
  <span> in gold lettering. He grabbed a piece of paper sticking out from between the pages and walked over to Sam.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll give you his address under one condition.” Bobby waved the paper in front of Sam’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anything,” Sam quickly agreed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You give him a chance to explain himself before you shoot him between the eyes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam laughed. “He convinced me and everyone else that he was dead. I’m not sending him to the grave until I find out why.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bobby held the paper out to Sam, motioning for him to take it. Once Sam was within reach, Bobby leaned forward to wrap him in a tight hug. “I’m sorry bout your dad son,” he whispered into Sam’s ear. “He wasn’t a good man, but he was still your father.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you Bobby,” Sam whispered back. He hoped the older man could hear in his voice that it wasn’t just for the condolences.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-+-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The address led them to a white one story house, nestled in the middle of an average suburban neighborhood. The lawn looked well kept though and there was a gold Lincoln Continental parked out front. Sam didn’t know which part was harder to believe, Dean living in the suburbs or owning the pimpmobile would normally never be caught dead in. Or maybe it was the dog dozing on the bench outside the door.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Are we sure this is the right address?’ Sam signed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eileen just shrugged. ‘Maybe Bobby pranked you? Worth a shot to check it out.’ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam got out of the car and made his way over to the faded blue door. Outside the car the air smelled like grass and whatever type of flowers were growing in the vase out front. Eileen shifted herself to cover the knife hidden under her jacket as they walked, causing Sam to subconsciously reach in his pocket to make sure his gun was there..</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The walk to the door felt like an eternity, both of them on guard for something wrong to happen. The little spark of hope that had ignited in Sam’s chest when Bobby told him his brother was alive was the only thing that stopped him from turning the car around and just going home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That, and Eileen standing supporting him at his side. Sam knew as long as she was there with him, he could deal with whatever was inside that house. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stopped in front of the door, Sam taking a breath before knocking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The seconds waiting were agony, his heart pounding in his ears. An eternal minute later, there was the faint sound of movement on the other side of the door, the knob rattling before it swung open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam felt his heart sink in his chest at the man in front of him as Eileen squeezed his hand reassuringly. The man in front of him was definitely not Dean.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man was shorter than Sam, with a wild bedhead of black hair and unnervingly blue eyes. He was wearing a backwards shirt and a pair of boxers with bees on them. There was a large hickey on his neck and Sam made the uncomfortable realization that he had probably interrupted this man during sex. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry man,” Sam said awkwardly, looking literally anywhere but the man in front of him. “I thought somebody else was here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those blue eyes squinted in confusion as Sam spoke, mouth parting slightly. “I don’t understand. What are you doing here?” His voice was shockingly low and rumbled like a storm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”Really man, I didn’t mean to interrupt your…” Sam felt his face burn red in embarrassment and trailed off rather than finish that sentence. “I’m sorry for bothering you, I'll just go.” He turned around to leave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man reached out and grabbed his arm, holding Sam in place with a surprising strength. In the time that Sam had hunted, he had learned that being grabbed by strangers usually led to him being hurt or killed, so it was on pure instinct that he whipped around and socked the man in the jaw.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam would have apologized immediately, but the blow did not even seem like it phased the man. He looked at Sam like he had just poked him on the cheek, not knocked him in the jaw with a punch that would send a normal person reeling. Sam stared at the man in horror, feeling Eileen reach for the knife at the corner of his eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My apologies,” the man said, dropping the hand holding onto Sam’s arm. “I forgot you were a hunter and did not anticipate your reaction.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At being referred to as a hunter, whatever doubt about this man not being human banished from his mind. Eileen, who had been reading the man’s lips, reacted in sync with Sam. She raised her knife into a defensive position as he whipped out his sidearm, leveling it at the man’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell are you,” he demanded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man cocked his head to the side as he studied the gun in mild interest. “Can you please put the weapons away? The neighbors are still complaining about the last time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Sam stared at this man in bewilderment, not lowering the gun. Who the hell was this guy? </span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span> the hell was this guy? Why had Bobby sent them here? Sam looked over at Eileen who seemed equally confused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am definitely going to be in trouble for this later.” The man sighed in resignation and gestured towards the muzzle pointed in his face. “The guns?” He repeated. Sam was not sure what this man was, but one thing that he was sure of was that he wasn’t human. As he studied it though, memories rose to the surface that made Sam go cold in realization</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Blue eyes. Black hair. Awkward.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell is taking so long down there, Cas?” A familiar male voice called from somewhere inside. Sam froze at the familiar voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I believe we have visitors,” the man called out in response. He calmly glanced over his shoulder as he spoke, still not phased by the gun in his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a loud groan of annoyance as a man stepped out into the hallway, pulling a shirt over his head. “Angel, I swear, if you’re spending a hundred dollars on girl scout cookies again I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> kill you.” The man poked his head out of his shirt at the last word with a bemused smile on his face. As he looked up at Sam though, he froze in his tracks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam also froze in surprise at the familiar green eyes staring back at him. The man looked put together for the most part, but Sam unfortunately had caught him sneaking girls out of their motel room or sneaking back in from bars way just enough times to be traumatizingly familiar with his “I just had sex” face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam…?” Dean trailed off, confusion spreading across his features.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam looked between his brother and the man his brother had just called angel. He took in their appearance, their domestic little house, their domestic little neighborhood, and his excitement at seeing his brother faded into angry confusion. He had been expecting some bunker in the middle of nowhere, not shaking up in the suburbs with whatever the hell this creature was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blue eye man looked over at his brother with a guilty expression. “Before you get mad, I can explain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s eyes snapped over to the man. “Cas?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam glared at his brother. “Dean,” he said dangerously, drawing his attention back over. “What the HELL is going on?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “that’s kind of a long story.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello everybody! I just want to thank everybody who liked, commented, or even just read this little fic. There will be a sequel to this fic from Dean's point of view, about his whole adventure and everything that happened. It will not be out until next year unfortunately, but if you want to read it then check back in this series around March 2021. Or, you can follow my tumblr Apolloclover for updates. And if you really don't want to wait, just shoot me a message on tumblr and I'll give you a brief summary.</p>
<p>I wish you all happy holidays and a good rest of the year :)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I will be posting a new chapter every day. Thank you so much to @Whoeversaidpineapplepizzabadyomomsahoe for the prompt this really was such a great fic to write.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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